IBRARY 


THE  UNIVERSITY 


OF  CAL  [FORNIA 


LOS  ANGELES 


POEMS 

T)orothy  Landers  Tieall 


POEMS 

TDorothy  Landers  'Beall 


New  York, 

MITCHELL  KENNERLEY 

'Publisher 
IQ1O 


Copyright  IQIO  by 
Mitchell  Kennerley 


PS 


/  7/0 

DEDICATION 
TO        MARY        B.        W1LKIE 

When  all  my  world  shall  read  me  ;  when  bright  tongues 

Like  tiny  searing  flames  shall  burn  and  run 

Among  my  spirit-palaces  ;  when  smoke 

Of  much  dissension  rises  like  a  ghost, 

Blue-pale  above  the  ashes  of  the  end, 

There  will  be  one  to  raise  me,  one  whose  heart, 

(Dearest  Interpreter!)  will  know  me  best, 

Regardful  of  the  pinnacles  unbuilt; 

One,  prophesying  all  the  glory  dreamed, 

Forever  dreamed  and  one  day  consummate  ! 


POEMS 

PAGE 

REVELATION  11 

TO   HIM  THAT   KNOCKETH  59 

THIS   WOMAN— AND   THIS   MAN  75 

MATINS  in 

A  LOST  LOVE  112 

THE  ANSWER  114 

SELF-KNOWTLEDGE  115 

SOUL  117 

APOLOGY  118 

THE  BRIDGE  119 

THE  SONG  OF  THE  SUBWAY  120 

THE  GRAY  APE  123 

MONA  LISA  125 

A  CLOUD  126 

BACCHANALIAN  127 

SICK  FANCIES  128 

THE  HEALER  130 

THE  LOVER  131 

THE    SUNSET  132 


REVELATION 


PART    ONE 


O,  I  might  tell  ycu  how  her  eyes'  warm  blue 

Kindles  her  face  to  beauty !     I  might  say 

Her  hands  are  delicate  as  evening  clouds, 

And  so  enumerate  her  loveliness. 

This  shall  suffice  to  show  you  what  she  is : 

Her  soul  is  wide  and  infinite,  a  sky 

Wherefrom  grave,  beautiful  and  tender  stars 

Do  lean  above  the  world.     High,  still  and  sure, 

Whiter  than  whitest  woman-purity 

Is  her  magnificent  and  tender  soul. 

So  that,  in  mounting  on  my  wings  of  love 

Up  awedly  into  that  arching  peace, 

I  fold  me  in  all  beauty,  so,  transcend 

By  her  high  spirit  to  the  feet  of  God ! 


REVELATION 


II 


My  life  had  paced  quiescent  thro'  the  years 

Until  I  saw  her — melancholy  years — 

Dull,  lagging,  pitiless  and  loveless  years! 

I  was  not  wholly  miserable,  no, 

Study  absorbed  me.    All  my  day  was  spent 

In  '  getting  understanding,'  which  is  good, 

But  cheerless  at  the  end  and  profitless 

If  no  transcendent  treasure  be  secured ! 

But  when  I  saw  her,  my  dead  spirit  woke, 

Smote  lightly  all  my  heart-strings,  softly  breathed 

Such  wonderful  and  eloquent  sweet  sound 

That  all  my  being  answered,  '  This  is  She ! ' 

Thus  did  I  come  upon  her,  as  it  were, 

Down  passage-ways  of  cloud-rift  to  a  star! 


[12] 


REVELATION 


III 


Such  exquisite  seclusion  guards  her  soul 

(As  if  an  angel  sits  beside  the  door 

Of  her  pure  being)  that  I  dared  not  hope 

Even  a  quiet  boon  of  friendliness. 

I  was  so  reverent  before  her  grace 

That  her  quick  robe-sweep  set  my  heart  aflame 

Into  my  eyes  and  voice.     She  walked  apart, 

Sometime  communing  with  primeval  calm 

Like  a  grave  maiden  in  a  forest  place 

Where  the  fair  greenery  and  silentness 

Shield  her  as  utterly  as  innocence. 

She  was  absorbed  into  a  star-lit  peace 

And  talked  with  God !    Then  I  gazed  at  my  soul, 

Crying,  '  O  Fool  and  dar'st  thou  love  her — thou  ? ' 


[13] 


REVELATION 


IV 


Once  I  was  bold  to  give  her  a  white  rose, 
Not  whiter  than  her  delicate  fair  hands, 
Not  warm  and  radiant  with  life  as  they, 
But  fragrant,  meet  for  laying  at  her  shrine, 
And,  as  she  touched  it,  all  my  loving  rose 
In  a  white,  ardent,  tumultuous  flame 
That  ran  o'er  all  my  body!    Then  I  cried, 
'  Look  deeper  in  the  flower-heart,  look  well ! 
Is  there  no  other  gold — true  gold  of  love?' 
Her  eyes  plunged  fathom-deep  into  my  soul 
And  on  her  face,  a  terrible,  wide  pain 
Scarred  all  the  quiet  pleasure — 'You  love  me?' 
She  questioned  dully.     '  O  learn  not  to  love ! ' 
But  tenderly  she  guarded  my  white  rose ! 


[14] 


REVELATION 


Her  heart  is  great  as  all  the  universe 

For  suffering  and  childhood!    You  should  see 

How  lovingly  she  touches  the  round  heads 

Of  the  small  parish  children.    Here,  I  thought, 

Is  a  sweet  mother-nature,  long  frustrate 

Of  its  true  loving.     O  my  Lady,  you 

Who  would  so  gladly  fold  a  rose-small  form 

Into  your  eager  arms,  God  fore-ordained 

That  you  should  clasp  the  whole,  weak,  weary 

world 

Into  a  great  embrace  of  sympathy! 
You  are  a  little  mother  of  us  all, 
My  gentle-fingered  Lady,  my  dear  love! 
I  walked  along  beside  her,  marvelling 
That  such  great  love  as  mine  were  unexpressed. 


REVELATION 


VI 


My  love  for  her,  and  her  great  dread  of  love, 
Made  me  as  dumb  as  sadness.     How  could  I 
Offer  my  soul  and  see  her  shrink?    But  she 
Gave  me  the  friendliness  I  sought  at  first. 
Once,  I  remember,  she  wrote,  gallantly 
A  note  of  mock  surrender — '  I  reserve 
My  heart  for  you — faithful  and  constant!' 

'  Love, 

Dear  Love,'  I  cried,   (for  I  was  half  unmanned, 
Alone,  in  a  vast  waste  of  tenderness!) 
'  Is  there  no  truth,  no  deep  sincerity 
In  your  small  note?'     The  elves  of  merriment 
Retreated  from  her  eyes  and  left,  instead, 
Two  gray,  wan  shadows  that  were  full  of  woe, 
Reproaching  me  that  I  had  caused  her  pain. 


[16] 


REVELATION 


VII 


But  those  first  days  were  pleasant.     All  my  hope 

That  her  soul  would  grow  eager  at  my  touch 

Could  not  break  up  an  intercourse  so  rare 

In  sympathy.     Music  awoke  in  us 

Like  rapture.   With  our  hearts  attuned,  our  hands 

Hidden  beneath  her  furs  and  velvet,  touched 

Often,  in  very  ecstasy  of  joy 

At  such  a  blent  infinity  of  sound ! 

The  tender  sadness  of  the  violins 

As  they  wailed  up  into  a  great  despair 

Beat  at  her  spirit  like  the  voice  of  God! 

'  It  is  too  exquisite  for  life ! '  she  cried. 

Then  turned  to  me  for  sympathy  and  met 

Music  of  love  that  hovered  on  my  lips. 


REVELATION 


VIII 

Why  do  I  love  you?    First  and  chief  of  all 

Because,  in  your  white  human  soul  I  find 

An  answer  to  my  boundless  questioning — 

A  satisfaction  of  that  great  desire 

To  love  all,  be  all,  compass  all — the  cry, 

Vain,  weak,  insistent,  wherewith  finite  minds 

Do  storm  the  fortress  of  infinity! 

O  I  do  love  in  you  the  tender  calm 

That  lies  somewhere  quite  near  the  throne  of  God. 

Where  silver  angels  of  your  gracious  thought 

Walk  meekly,  slender  fingers  clasped  in  prayer! 

And  last,  I  love  you,  because  God  has  touched 

My  dullard  soul  and  quickened  it  to  flame 

That  leaps  in  ardent  beauty  to  your  life! 


[18] 


REVELATION 


IX 


My  Lady  has  a  friend,  gray,  plumy-tailed 

And  very  elegant.     He  lives,  sky-roofed, 

In  the  great,  gaunt  and  melancholy  trees 

That  rail  above  us  in  the  winter  night. 

The  squirrel-friend  is  lonely  (so  she  says, 

My  ever-tender  Lady!)  and  has  need 

Of  all  the  nuts  she  carries  for  his  sake! 

To  see  her  hold  her  slender  gray-gloved  hand 

Cautiously  out  to  him,  is  joy  enough 

For  me  who  stand  attentive.     See  him  come, 

Fastidiously,  lightly  as  gray  cloud — 

Half-condescendingly !     Ah,   small  proud  friend, 

Would  I  so  hesitate,  if  she  outstretched 

Her  slender  hand  and  summoned  me  to  her? 


REVELATION 


Her  letter,  'tis  epitome  of  her! 

See  the  fair  writing  speeding  like  her  thought ! 

How  reminiscent  is  the  wide  white  marge 

Of  her  great  tolerance.     The  words,  themselves, 

Are  somehow  all  peculiar  to  herself ! 

Letter  I  love,  letter  how  dumbly  dear, 

(For  every  line  speaks  subtly,  tenderly, 

Spite  of  the  seeming  coldness ! )  I  do  see 

My  Lady's  hand  that  formed  you;  I  can  hear 

The  music  of  her  spirit,  mystical 

That  played  along  the  paper!     Can  it  be 

The  letter  is  a  thing  material? 

Rather  'tis  instinct  with  her  tenderness 

And  golden  with  the  beauty  of  her  soul ! 


[20] 


REVELATION 


XI 


My  Lady  has  the  quickness  of  a  wish! 
She  speeds  before  me  ever,  just  ahead, 
Never  beside  me.    And  in  argument 
She  doth  outstrip  my  tongue  eternally! 
Yet  the  position  gives  me  vantage-ground. 
I  can  muse  long  upon  her  moon-spun  hair. 
(Moon- fairies  kissed  her  as  she  lay  asleep 
And  touched  her  hair  in  token,  silver  sprites!) 
I  can  exult,  proud  in  my  happiness 
When  her  lithe  vigor  struggles  with  a  wind 
And  battles  him  to  nothingness !     I  ween 
Never  was  Lady  fleeter  than  mine  own, 
Nor  more  exquisitely  and  wholly  dear 
Nor  more  intrinsically  beautiful! 


[21] 


REVELATION 


XII 

The  rivals  that  do  crawl  along  my  path 
I  crush,  thus — as  a  monster  doth  a  worm. 
Their  puny  small  resistance  I  subdue 
Into  dull  formlessness.     But  anger  leaps 
To  see  them  swarm  around  her !    O  my  moths, 
Tho'  the  sweet  radiance  may  smile  for  you, 
The  flame  has  never  flickered  at  your  breath. 
This  light  is  too  effulgent,  poor  weak  moths! 
And  yet,  is  my  condition  more  secure? 
Meseems  the  flame  has  lately  quickened,  shone 
In  fuller  beauty — yet  my  moth-dom  grows 
More  thralling  at  the  moment — and  the  Light, 
That  Light  of  her  great  spirit,  shines  as  firm 
For  all  my  beating  flight !     Alas,  poor  moth  ! 


[22] 


REVELATION 


XIII 

Listen,  I  play  my  soul  into  the  notes, 

The  leaping  silver  notes!     Chopin  was  wise 

To  write  of  loving.     'Tis  the  only  theme 

For  life  and  inspiration !     Will  you  hear 

Great-browed  Beethoven,  the  magnificent 

Who  mounted  wingedly  into  the  night 

And  plucked  the  stars  for  music!     Hark,  dear 

love, 

Grieg  lilts  of  folk-lore  and  quaint  Norway-love, 
Or  flings  the  tragedy  of  northern  life 
Into  his  songs  of  magic  melody ! 
In  each  I  find  great  pulsing  sympathy — 
A  moonlit  pathway  whereby  tender  dreams 
May  reach  the  portal  of  your  spirit-land. 
God  grant  them  welcome  and  an  open  way! 


[23] 


REVELATION 


XIV 

The  shadow  of  departure  spread  gray  wings 

Above  my  ecstasy  of  happy  love. 

I  knew  that  I  must  speak  to  her,  must  say 

All  my  great  passion  into  throbbing  words. 

God,  to  consign  her  to  eternity 

Of  shrieking  winds  and  steel-gray  bitter  waves — 

To  leave  her — not  to  see  the  morning-light 

Shine  in  her  sky-wide  eyes — to  miss  the  leap — 

The  quivering  great  leap  of  all  my  thoughts 

When  she  drew  near  me — O  to  lose  the  love, 

The  tangible  dear  human  love  of  her — 

This  is  supremest  bitterness — and  now 

My  heart  must  face  her  clearly !     'Tis  her  due 

Before  the  avid  distance  seizes  us ! 


[24] 


REVELATION 


XV 

So,  on  a  day  I  heaped  my  loving  up 

In  mad,  tumultuous  and  mighty  show 

Before  her.     O,  I  told  her  all  my  heart, 

Tore  wide  the  curtain  of  my  self-conceit, 

Showed  her  myself — my  naked,  paltry  self 

Sole-garbed  in  the  garment  of  my  love ! 

Neither  did  I  disguise  a  wanton  wish 

Creeping  into  my  eyes  like  wickedness, 

A  vast  desire  for  her  love,  her  love ! 

O,  I  was  mad,  yet  can  it  be  forgot 

That  I  was  likewise  pulsed  with  earnestness 

And  lost  all  reckoning  in  the  great  haste 

To  have  her  to  eternity  of  love? 

And  thus  I  spoke  my  heart  out  utterly. 


[25] 


REVELATION 


XVI 

Then  darkness  fell  between  us  for  a  space, 
Wherein  small  slimy  creatures  of  my  thought 
Wove  misconceptions  in  my  consciousness. 
Yet  I  demanded  clearly,  '  Give  me  truth ! ' 
(For  that  one  wish  shone  whitely,  manifest 
Above  the  waiting  silence  of  my  heart!) 
At  last,  her  voice  came  like  an  evening  wind: 
'  I  cannot  give  you  what  your  spirit  craves ! ' 
Great  God — the  mighty  agony!     I  fell 
Amid  the  desolation  of  great  space. 
Then  weary  darkness  closed  and  covered  me, 
Merciful  darkness  born  of  God  and  Time ! 
Yet  ever  came  the  evening-gentle  wind: — 
'  I  cannot  give  you  what  your  spirit  craves ! ' 


[26] 


PART     TWO 


There  is  some  other  way!     So,  I  believed, 

Argued  and  reasoned  when  my  life  awoke 

And  numbly  stretched  its  members — thus  took  up 

The  often-trodden,  weary  ways  of  Hope! 

She  might,  because  of  my  unselfishness 

Thro'  long  and  patient  years  be  brought  to  love 

Half-imperceptibly  as  one  who  reads 

An  oft-perused  volume,  shuts  the  book 

And,  all  unconsciously,  repeats  the  lines, 

Not  knowing  that  his  mind  has  caught  the  sense! 

O,  I  was  happy  thus  to  cheat  myself! 

O  Hope,  Hope,  Hope — thou  witching  slender  elf 

That  lurkest  in  the  forests  of  our  life 

To  lead  us  to  the  swarthy  mouth  of  Hell ! 


[27] 


REVELATION 


II 


My  letters  followed  her  like  silver  gulls 

Even  into  the  land  of  her  desire. 

How  beautiful  was  all  the  world  to  me 

Because  I  loved  her,  being  far  from  her. 

Far  from  her?    Yes,  for  my  heart  whispered  me, 

'  It  is  not  terrible  as  you  have  thought ! 

Teach  her  to  love  you ! '  and,  with  her  away 

My  spirit  listened  like  a  foolish  child. 

Beautiful  laughed  the  sea !     '  Dear  Sea,'  I  cried, 

'  Guard  well  my  Lady !    Gallant-going  wind, 

Breathe  on  the  ocean  like  a  lover!     Sky, 

Great  Sky,  smile  down  at  her!     She  is  my  love 

And  worthy  of  your  uttermost  great  care, 

For  God  has  touched  her  spirit  with  His  light.' 


[28] 


REVELATION 


III 


Hope  came  to  me  seductive  in  my  grief — 
Beautiful  Hope  arrayed  in  living  green! 
And  far  adown  her  fell  her  sun-gold  hair, 
In  her  light  laughter  rang  clear  silverness! 
And,  all  unwittingly,  I  yielded  me 
Utterly  to  her  glowing  soul!     Her  arms, 
White,  slender  arms,  that  clasped  so  lovingly, 
Suddenly  chilled  and  clutched  me !     See,  her  eyes 
Grown  cavernous  and  gray — her  long  hair,  cold 
With  lifeless  hoariness — her  tender  mouth 
Agrin  with  ghastly  teeth !     Ha,  is  this  Hope, 
This  the  young  Hope  that  came  to  me  but  now? 
Not  so,  not  so — I  loose  thy  haggard  arms! 
Thou  art  no  Hope,  but  terror-old  Despair! 


[29] 


REVELATION 


IV 


How  can  it  be  that  you  are  not  beside  me? 

But  now  I  felt  insistent  gentle  sound 

As  if  a  mist-gray  shadow  that  is  you 

(Yet  not,  O  Love,  as  tender-warm  as  you!) 

Trailed  its  long  robes  and  rustled  at  mine  ear 

Love,  can  it  be  that  your  voice  pulsing  out 

Under  the  star-eyed  beauty  of  the  night 

Has  reached  me  and  become  articulate, 

Tangible,  true — incarnate,  as  it  were 

In  dear  familiar  sounds  of  sweeping  robes 

That  heralded  your  light  free-going  step 

In  happy  gracious  love-time  long  ago? 

It  cannot  be;  your  life  is  heaped  so  full 

With  love  and  hope  there  is  no  need  of  me! 


[30] 


REVELATION 


Her  letters  were  so  kind  to  me  that  I 
Read  into  them  a  passionate  warm  sense, 
Remembering  how  near  she  was  the  night 
I  held  her  prisoner  and  cried  to  her 
'Love  me  at  last — love  me!'     Surely  I  win 
By  my  persistent  seeking  what  I  seek! 
And  other  days  confirmed  me :     '  When  again 
You  look  into  her  wonderful  blue  eyes, 
Their  light  will  hold  some  tenderness  for  you ! 
Meanwhile  I  wrote  her  passionately,  dinned 
Against  her  ears  my  clamoring  hot  love, 
Cruelly  belaboring  mere  kindliness, 
Selfish,  alas,  in  my  unselfishness! 


REVELATION 


VI 


I  wove  such  wondrous  visions  in  the  night 
When  all  the  world  lay  still  around  me,  stars 
Whirled  in  my  brain,  and  silver  moon-lit  thoughts 
Created  her  before  me — incarnate  ! 

0  thou,  whose  eyes  bear  mystical,  complete 
The  holy  peace  of  God !     Whose  heart  is  wide, 
A  universe  of  tender,  woman-thoughts, 
Whose  touch  is  music  and  whose  coming,  light, 

1  cannot  penetrate  the  mist-gray  veil 

Of  thine  own  beauty!     O  Lord  God  Divine, 
How  can  it  be  that  I  may  love  her  so — 
I — who  am  altogether  steeped  in  pain? 
Thus,  thro'  the  silver  silence  of  the  night, 
I  touched  the  floating  hem  of  her  white  robe. 


[32] 


REVELATION 


VII 

Yes,  I  have  felt  a  night  of  weariness 
Creep  o'er  her  tender  face.     The  shadow  grew 
Terrible,  gray,  folded  her  brooding  eyes 
Just  as  the  darkness  deepens  round  the  stars! 
The  evil  clamor  of  the  shrieking  world 
Stormed  her  calm  spirit  like  a  rude  assault 
And  all  her  life  withdrew  to  solitude 
Where  she  might  meet  her  being  unafraid. 
Dear  Love,  it  is  not  right,  not  right,  I  say, 
That  lassitude  should  seize  you  in  its  arms. 
You  were  not  made  to  suffer — you  are  pure 
And  gentle  as  the  Mother-Maid  of  Christ — 
It  is  not  right!     Rather  let  me  submit 
And  suffer  in  your  stead,  O  tender  love ! 


[333 


REVELATION 


VIII 

This  terrible  desire  for  her  soul, 
This  force  that  eats  my  very  inmost  life 
And  kills  the  tender  buddings  of  delight — 
Surely  she  understands  it — O,  she  knows 
That  I  would  rather  see  her  heart  leap  up 
To  meet  my  questing  heart  than  gather  in 
The  wide  great  adoration  of  the  world 
And  its  attendant  pomp  of  loyalty! 
If  I  might  see  the  love-stars  in  her  eyes 
Shine  out  in  a  great  mist  of  tender  blue 
I  would  not  look  up  at  the  angels'  stars 
That  mount  above  the  majesty  of  night! 
O,  I  would  almost  send  my  soul  to  Hell 
If  she  might  love  me  to  eternity! 


[34] 


REFELATION 


IX 


I  am  too  cruel  to  happiness!     I  snatch 

Her  flowers  rudely  and  compress  them — so — 

Against  my  famished  lips,  that  all  their  breath 

Sweet  to  an  exquisite  great  sweetness,  dies 

And  life-blood  oozes  from  them,  heavy,  slow, 

Dropping  against  my  heart — O  avid  heart, 

Empty  of  happiness,  why  art  thou  rude, 

Except  that  thou  be  brutal  by  despair? 

So  with  fair  joy — the  tangible  sane  joy 

Of  nearness  to  my  Lady,  that  were  great 

Did  I  but  look  upon  it  calmly — see, 

I  crushed  it  to  me  and  the  petals  fell 

And  I  disclosed  an  empty  flower-heart, 

Then  wrapped  me  once  again  in  loneliness ! 


[35] 


REVELATION 


X 


Love  me  for  love's  sake !     Since  you  cannot  give 
The  gracious  boon  of  woman's  tenderness, 
Love  me  because  I  bring  you  such  a  gift 
As  never  heaped  the  altars  of  dead  queens ! 
Love  me  because  I  pour  my  spirit  out 
In  turbid,  vehement  and  flowing  stream 
That  shines,  here,  silver-white,  all  purity, 
There,  darkly-crimson  with  my  burning  pain! 
Yes,  love  me  for  my  loving.     I  am  shamed — 
Humble,  contrite  to  thus  entreat  of  you, 
I,  who  was  proud  to  ask  no  boon,  ah  fool ! 
But  now  I  kneel  as  prostrate  at  your  feet 
As  some  poor  tamed  beast !     Love  me,  I  cry, 
Love  me,  at  last,  if  only  for  my  love! 


[36] 


REVELATION 


XI 


O,  I  have  seen  such  love  leap  in  her  eyes, 

Such  a  great  morning-rise  of  happiness 

Light  up  her  spirit  in  effulgent  beam, 

And  waken  all  the  beauty  of  her  soul ! 

So  that  her  eyes,  erstwhile  a  midnight  blue, 

Shone  clearly  in  a  sudden  tenderness, 

And  her  dear  voice  did  wreathe  around  that  name 

Exquisite  summer-garlands  of  her  thought — 

Flowers  of  her  loving!    Then,  she  lifted  up 

Her  memories  and  spoke  of  them  to  me, 

So  that  her  speech  was  gentle  as  her  love 

And  every  separate  word  a  great  caress ! 

O,  I  have  seen  such  love  leap  in  her  eyes — 

Infinite  tenderness,  magnificent! 


[37] 


REVELATION 


XII 


Christ  pity  us  who  wait — who  sit  half-crouched 

Over  the  dying  fires  of  our  hopes, 

Seeing  the  mounting  blue  flame  of  desire 

Dart  upward  spirit-like  as  anciently; 

Grown  old  with  misery,  our  white  hair  wrapped 

About  chill  bosoms  like  eternal  snow; 

Who  start  quick  upward  at  a  gentle  sound 

Insistent  on  the  pathway  to  our  souls, 

Shrieking  aloud — '  It  must  be  she — she  comes, 

She  comes  imperial!    Was  waiting  long!' 

And  then  to  hear  the  footsteps  pass  away 

Irrevocably!     Down  we  sink  again. 

Christ  pity  us  who  wait  eternally 

The  footsteps  of  a  love  that  never  comes ! 


[38] 


REVELATION 

XIII 

Ingeniously,  I  wove  my  web  of  hope 
Across  my  mind's  too  troublesome  keen  eyes, 
And  thus  ensconced  me  comfortably  behind, 
Unmindful  of  the  woe  of  self-deceit. 
One  came  to  me  and  spoke  of  self-respect, 
Saying  '  Give  not  too  overwhelmingly ! 
The  idol  will  be  overthrown  some  day 
And  you  be  left  to  crawl  among  the  ruins ! ' 
I  did  not  err  in  giving  her  too  much — 
Too  much  to  her — that  great  transcendent  soul 
But  I  was  blinded,  blinded,  searching  here 
A  bud  of  hope,  finding  it,  tending  it 
Exultant  with  a  too-persistent  joy, 
Unmindful  of  the  woe  of  self-deceit. 


[39] 


REVELATION 


XIV 

Nay,  give  me  now  yourself,  yourself:  one  kiss 

Upon  the  lips  that  I  do  raise  to  you — 

Some  foretaste  of  the  passion-wonderment, 

The  love  that  lives  somewhere  within  you,  dear! 

O  let  me  now  possess  you  utterly, 

Let  me  so  clasp  you  in  my  empty  heart, 

Close,  close  against  me — 'twere  felicity 

As  great  as  morning  and  as  hot  as  life! 

Nearer — come  nearer — O,  your  eyes  are  blue, 

A  veiled  loveliness  of  blue,  of  blue ! 

Let  me  possess  you  even  bodily 

That  haply  thro'  your  body,  I  may  seize 

Your  soul  straightway!     Then,  dropping  back  to 

woe 
Fathomless  in  its  blackness — take  me,  Death ! 


[40] 


REFELATION 


XV 


How  shall  I  greet  you?    With  my  inmost  soul, 

Love-lit,  serene  and  brooding  at  my  lips ! 

I  shall  have  cut  away  the  gray  old  growth 

Of  mossy  evil  that  has  crept  around 

This  old  stump  of  my  heart.  A  flame-quick  leaf — 

A  little  new-born  leaf,  green  as  fair  life, 

Shall  spring  up  phoenix-like  and  grow  aloft 

Into  a  mighty  tree  that,  as  God  wills, 

Shall  some  day  touch  great  heaven  and  be  blest! 

This  I  shall  bring  you — and  a  love,  dear  heart, 

As  constant  as  the  blue  strength  of  the  sea, 

As  surging  as  the  sea  and  as  witch-wild! 

O,  I  shall  live  in  that  brief  moment's  span 

A  fervid,  glowing  life-time's  happiness! 


[41] 


PART     THREE 


I 


I  know  all  now.     I  looked  up  tim'rously 
At  her  great  beauty  and  in  looking  so 
Gained  knowledge  with  the  inspiration-flash. 

0  she  is  beautiful !    Her  eyes — her  eyes 
Hold  such  deep  intimations  of  her  soul! 

Her  heart  sings  at  her  lips !    Her  hands  are  white 
As  benediction!     She  is  beautiful! 
And  thus,  aspiring  to  her  loveliness, 

1  gazed  at  sky-born  truth,  I  know  all  now — 
She  cannot  love  me !    O  ye  mocking  stars, 
You  vastly  cruel  sky,  I  tell  ye  all 

She  cannot  love  me !    O  Infinity 

That  tells  me  this  is  best,  I  hate  your  voice, 

I  hate  your  mandates,  hate  your  majesty! 


[42] 


REVELATION 


II 


Lucifer,  thou  great  angel  of  my  hope, 

How  art  thou  fallen,  fallen  utterly! 

One  time  I  saw  thee  striding  like  a  star 

Thro'  the  immensity  of  heaven's  field; 

One  time  thy  heart  was  red  with  ecstasy, 

Thy  limbs  more  swift  in  going  than  the  wind; 

And  in  thy  hands  the  lightenings  for  swords, 

And  all  the  sunset  was  thy  flowing  robe ! 

Lucifer  of  my  hope,  I  sent  thee  out 

To  climb  the  wilderness  of  midnight  sky 

And  gather  me  a  mystic  asphodel ! 

Thou  climbdst  too  high  and  thus  must  fall  as  low ! 

Lucifer,  thou  great  angel  of  my  hope, 

How  art  thou  fallen,  fallen  utterly! 


[43] 


REVELATION 


III 


O,  the  denial  of  her  tender  eyes — 
The  sea-gray,  sea-wide  eyes  that  are  to  me 
So  ultimately,  passionately  dear! 
This  is  too  bitter — I — I  give  her  pain 
Who  have  so  loved  her  that  the  slightest  hurl 
To  her  fair  body  raised  such  woe  in  me 
That  I  was  fain  to  tear  my  soul  apart 
And  offer  her  the  fragments  for  a  balm. 
I  asked  her  what  her  truth  can  never  give. 
Her  eyes  were  wounded,  all  her  tenderness 
Seemed  weighted  with  my  awfulness  of  pain. 
I — I  have  hurt  her,  yet,  O  stern,  just  God, 
Hell  is  around  me,  demon-voices,  sin — 
Hell  of  denial  that  I  may  not  span! 


[44] 


REVELATION 


IV 


It  is  not  right  that  I  should  lose  her  so! 

Stern  Infinite,  she  was  my  all  of  light, 

My  sunrise  at  the  morning,  my  warm  gold 

When  the  great  sunset  agonized  to  rest; 

She  was  the  reason  of  my  vanquishing. 

O,  her  wide  soul  was  the  vast  sky  for  me — 

Her  eyes  were  deeper  than  the  blue-gray  sea, 

Deeper  in  hope,  deeper  in  purity. 

It  is  not  right — not  right  that  I  should  lose 

All  the  sweet  glory  of  her  loveliness, 

All  impulse  to  a  forward-moving  life. 

O  far,  grave  God,  can  it  be  Thou  art  cruel? 

It  is  not  right  that  I  should  lose  her  so ! 


[45] 


REVELATION 


It  was  impossible!     I  loved  her  well, 

But  luridly  and  evilly  it  seems, 

Her,  whom  it  were  a  blasphemy  to  touch 

With  other  than  mute  reverence  and  peace. 

I  cast  myself  before  her — I  grew  old 

In  loving  with  such  passion.     But  I  loved — 

That  were  sufficient  homage  for  a  few. 

But  she  could  not  bend  from  her  starry  height 

Where  truth  is  as  the  blessed  atmosphere 

And  holiness  the  very  winds  from  God — 

She  has  the  slender  white  straightforward  grace 

Of  a  fair  lily — and  my  God,  I — I 

Am  like  the  very  earth  she  treads  upon. 

Therefore  it  was  impossible — this  love! 


[46] 


REVELATION 


VI 


You  say  you  once  were  happy  in  my  love. 

Gray  seas  of  bitterness  roll  in  on  me. 

How  can  I  bear  the  life-long,  damning  sense 

That  I  have  miserably,  wholly  failed? 

I  have  put  out  the  sunlight  of  my  life 

By  the  close,  palling  cloud  of  my  desire. 

You  said  once,  (we  were  near  in  heart  that  day) 

'  This,  your  great  loving  gives  me  happiness ! ' 

And  I,  poor  fool,  unknowing  my  weak  soul 

Did  heap  wild  protestation  at  your  shrine — 

Silver  for  truth,  gold  for  sincerity 

And  purple  for  regality  of  hope! 

But  the  spoils  sickened  you — they  were  too  huge — 

Ah  fool — poor,  passionate  and  tender  fool! 


[471 


REVELATION 


VII 


And  all  around  me  there  are  memories 

Like  fragrant  lilies  of  a  dream-wrapped  life — 

And  O,  the  perfume  and  the  joy  of  them — 

And  O,  the  bitterness  and  woe  of  them ! 

Every  chance  movement  of  my  life  is  full 

Of  subtle  reminiscence — I  but  turn 

My  books — a  wee  wild  rose  she  gave  me  once, 

Here  her  last  letter.     O  my  tender  Love, 

My  unapproachable  and  far-off  Love, 

What  hast  thou  heaped  upon  me  carelessly! 

What  is  there  left  me  from  the  wrack  of  things, 

That  smoking  desolation,  save,  perhaps, 

Infinite  tenderness,  immaculate, 

Infinite  loneliness,  unconquerable! 


[48] 


REVELATION 

VIII 

I  send  my  love  out^thro'  the  kindly  night, 
Six-winged  like  the  Seraph  of  the  Book, 
Fleet,  in  the  darkness,  as  a  streaming  star 
Cutting  the  gray-cold  vapors  of  my  doubts! 
Each  wing  doth  bear  him  gallantly  and  strong, 
And  every  wing  is  rosy  with  desire, 
Pearl-pinioned  with  my  purity  of  faith 
And  widely  arching  o'er  the  Seraph's  head! 
His  face  is  whitely  glorious,  aflame — 
His  hands  are  strong  to  hold  a  woman's  heart, 
But  not  yours,  O  transcendent  You  of  dreams ! 
I  send  my  love  out  thro'  the  kindly  night, 
Six-winged  like  the  Seraph  of  the  Book, 
With  sunset-colored  wings  of  my  desire! 


[49] 


REVELATION 


IX 


I  creep  along  unmindful  of  the  day 
Because  my  woe  has  blinded  me.     I  see 
Nothing  but  darkness  in  futurity, 
No  hope  to  stir  the  curtains  of  my  soul 
That  hang  so  darkly  motionless.     I  rise 
Mechanically  and  my  spirit  shrieks 
'Wherefore  the  daily  old  accustomed  things? 
Go  hide  thee  in  the  blankness  of  despair. 
Wherefore,  wherefore?  A  slender  woman's  hand 
Has  drawn  the  terrible  wide  midnight  down 
For  thee  to  hide  in,  but  has  left  the  stars 
To  sing  together!     Hollow  vast  of  night 
Is  thine  inheritance — so  creep  thou  on, 
Furtive  as  fear  in  a  wide  wilderness ! ' 


[50] 


REVELATION 


X 


Dearest!     I  want  you  utterly  to-night! 

I  fling  from  me  the  shallowness  of  hope, 

The  sordid  cowardice  that  shames  my  soul 

Even  when  I  am  surest  of  myself — 

I  fling  them  all  away — and  in  the  night, 

The  hospitable  darkness,  I  stretch  out 

My  hungry  arms  to  gather  you  at  last! 

Dearest,  I  want  you  in  this  agony ! 

Do  you  remember  how  you  came  to  me 

When  some  slight  ailment  woke  your  sympathy? 

That  was  a  small,  small  hurt !     Now,  all  my  soul 

Is  rent  asunder  with  great  bitterness 

And  yet  you  cannot  come  to  me  to-night — 

God,  how  my  spirit  hungers  for  your  love! 


REVELATION 


XI 


The  demons  bid  me  suffer  and  I  writhe 
Upon  the  rack  of  pain  that  they  prepare ! 
And  yet  my  deadened  brain  has  held  a  thought 
That  makes  me  almost  hope  I  am  not  mad, 
So  reasonable  seemed  it.     I  have  asked 
The  cruel  thing  they  worship :  wherefore  this 
Eternal  tearing  at  my  heart-strings?     Why 
Must  I  be  rent  apart  and  tortured?    Then, 
Came  a  great  voice  of  peaceful  silver  sound 
And  sank  into  my  spirit !    Then  I  knew 
That  we  are  rent  upon  the  rack  of  things 
That  we  may  look  into  the  eyes  of  men 
And  say — 'I  suffered.     Dost  thou  suffer,  too?' 


[52] 


REVELATION 


XII 

Not  that  I  blame  her !     O,  her  way  is  right, 

Irrevocably  right.     To  that  I  fix 

My  stricken  spirit.    If  one  time  a  light 

Has  crept  into  the  chambers  of  my  soul 

Revealing  all  the  emptiness  and  dust, 

If  a  star,  a  radiant  clothed  star, 

Has  streamed  across  the  night  of  my  desire, 

That  light,  that  star  is  her  soul-righteousness. 

And  when  I  looked  upon  the  tenderness 

Of  gentle  evening  leaning  on  the  earth 

I  murmured,  '  So  would  her  love-tender  soul 

Lean  on  my  spirit.'     I  have  dreamed  too  well, 

Have  dreamed  gigantic  fantasy,  and  she 

Has  flooded  my  drunk  soul  with  morning  light. 


[53] 


REVELATION 


XIII 

So — I  renounce  it.     All  the  mighty  wish 

That  she  should  love  me  has  passed  from  my  soul 

Leaving  an  utter  solitude  and  peace 

That  bring  a  benediction,  mem'ry-blessed ! 

So  take  your  place  in  my  hurt  life,  Beloved, 

You,  the  incarnate  spirit  of  my  love, 

You,  the  one  gracious  vision  of  my  art, 

The  inspiration  of  my  fortitude, 

The  intimate  pure  beauty  of  my  soul ! 

I  do  so  love  you  that  my  will  can  bow. 

I  love  you  to  eternity  and  death 

And  in  my  loving  am  thus  reconciled — 

You  are  the  unattainable,  Beloved — 

Lady  of  my  life,  Lady  of  my  life! 


[54] 


REVELATION 


XIV 

This  you  can  never  take  from  me — my  love 

And  the  great  joy  that  floods  my  heart  to-night 

When  I  remember  all  your  loveliness: — 

The  generous  firm  promise  of  your  mouth, 

Your  marvellous  rare  hair,  most  like,  I  think, 

To  that  impalpable  and  subtle  gray 

Of  dropping  summer  twilight — your  hands'  clasp 

And  the  white,  rose-sweet  fingers,  gently  laid! 

Never  can  you  take  from  me  that  great  time 

When  I  stood  breathless  on  a  mountain-top 

Of  exultation  and  gazed  out  beyond 

Into  the  upper  silence  of  your  soul 

As  great  as  God's  blue  sky — and  cried  aloud, 

'  How  I  do  love  her,  love  her — gracious  God ! ' 


[55] 


REVELATION 


XV 


We  who  have  found  a  certain  rare,  great  love, 

Must  keep  it  sacred  in  a  sacred  place 

Of  ideality  I     No  passion's  wind 

Must  rage  among  those  silences !     No  wish 

For  great  impossibilities  must  stir 

The  plume-tipped  trees  of  that  vast  solitude! 

So,  having  purified  our  hearts  and  eyes 

To  see  as  purely  as  the  arching  sky, 

We  enter  by  the  gate  of  tenderness 

Into  the  region  of  our  sacred  love 

To  meet  the  glo'ry  of  white  loveliness! 

And,  looking  to  the  God  of  gracious  Peace 

Yield  us  to  beauty  incarnate!     O  Thou, 

My  Love,  so  shall  I  meet  Thee  and  be  blest! 


[56] 


TO     HIM     THAT    KNOCKETH 


TO     HIM     THAT    KNOCKETH 

I  sit  upon  this  summit  of  my  life, 
Looking  out  wonderingly  on  the  world. 
Surely  there  can  be  nothing  lovelier 
Without  my  boundaries! 

And  yet 

They  say  great  cities  tower  on  the  plains 
And  myriad  swift  streams  of  life  flow  down 
Toward  the  ocean.     What  can  that  be  like — 
The  ocean?    I  have  known  great  rush  of  winds 
And  felt  my  soul  tear  at  the  doors  of  life 
Eager  to  join  and  blow  across  the  world! 
What  joy  of  movement — what  great  happiness 
Sings  in  my  life !    Thro'  tumult  of  strong  wind 
I  rush  along  the  battlements,  sob  out 
1  Let  me  go  with  you,  wind ! '  fling  my  long  hair 
To  blow  and  toss  and  leap  since  I  may  not. 
The  ocean  must  be  like  the  wind — as  blue, 
Wide,  limitless  and  mighty  as  the  sky ! 
O,  to  be  free  for  just  a  moment's  span, 
To  run  along  those  westward  gentle  slopes, 

[59] 


TO     HIM     THAT    KNOCKETH 

So  fair  because  beyond  my  boundary — 
O,  to  be  free — to  leap  out  like  a  deer 
Free — free ! 

O  heart,  why  wilt  thou  image  forth 
A  beauty  never  to  be  thine?    The  wish 
Can  only  hurt  my  close-pent  life  and  rend 
My  being  all  apart. 

My  father  said, 

When  he  lay  dying,  '  Guard  her  tenderly! 
I  would  she  grew  as  fair  as  morning-wind, 
As  virgin  and  as  white  and  undefiled. 
Create  a  wonderment  of  castle-ground, 
Flowers  and  trees  and  little  living  things: 
Within,  ancestral  sternness,  frowning  walls, 
Dark  to  impress  her  with  authority. 
Hang  tapestry  of  old-world  tales!     She'll  read 
On  them  such  fantasies  as  can  be  shown 
Not  detrimental  to  her  purity. 
But  let  no  murmur  from  a  living  world, 
No  slightest  whisper  of  the  way  of  men 
Molest  her,  I  would  have  her  pure ! 

O  ye 

Who  loved  me  see  to  this  consummate  wish ! ' 
And  so  he  died. 

[60] 


TO     HIM     THAT    KNOCKETH 

O,  sometimes  I  have  felt 

(When  I  walked  breathless  thro'  the  empty  halls 
A-tip-toe  lest  I  wake  a  creeping  sound) 
His  haughty  spirit — in  the  tapestry 
A  rustle  like  the  rustle  of  his  dress, 
A  throbbing  heart-beat  near  me.    Nay,  I  swear 
In  the  long  slanting  bridge  of  yellow  light 
From  some  high  casement  I  have  seen  his  hand 
Stretched  out  to  keep  me  to  obedience. 
And  yet  despite  him  I  have  heard  the  noise 
Of  life.     In  some  mysterious  small  way 
The  tidings  crept  in  thro'  my  castle-walls 
Like  the  green  tendrils  of  a  living  vine. 
He  has  no  right  to  chain  me.     O  great  God, 
I  am  a  woman.     Let  me  live  my  life 
As  Thou  ordainest!     O  my  father,  you 
Have  stolen  from  me  all  the  things  I  seek. 
I  could  have  loved  you,  but  you  follow  me 
Thro'  these  thick  walls,  a  spectre,  sombre-eyed, 
Terrible-browed  and  grim;  you  have  no  right, 
You  who  are  dead,  to  grasp  my  living  heart 
Between  the  iron  fingers  of  your  will. 
O  let  me  go! 

I  am  too  passionate, 
[61] 


TO     HIM     THAT    KNOCKETH 

Too  bitter!    He  was  very  kind  to  me 

And  they  are  kind,  his  servants,  but  not  keen, 

Not  understanding — and  I  am  alone! 

To-day  the  world  is  all  awake.     I  saw 
The  grasses  swaying  blithely  in  the  wind, 
Laughing  and  swaying  merrily.     A  small 
Yellow  winged  warbler  threw  a  note  at  me 
Quintessence  of  pure  liquid  melody, 
Happiness  compassed  in  a  single  sound. 
The  little  leaves  are  all  a-dance  with  joy. 
Why,  I  am  happy  too! 

An  old  wife  came 

Mumbling  between  her  worn  pink  gums  a  word 
Of  merry  rout  that  passed  the  castle,  lords 
A-hunting  mirth  and  love  with  hounds  at  leash, 
Soft-nosed  dear  hounds  with  kindly,  vacant  eyes. 
She  curtsied  as  she  told  me. 

1 0,'  I  cried, 

'Why  didst  not  tell  me  in  the  morning?     O, 
I  would  so  gladly  see  my  kind — not  these 
Old  servants  who  surround  me  like  a  wall, 
Each  man  a  figure-head  of  irony, 
Each  woman  grinning  like  a  gargoyle-mask 

[62] 


TO     HIM     THAT    KNOCKETH 

To  please  me !     O,  I  want  the  heart  of  youth, 
Gay  laughter,  jest  and  merriment!' 

She  smiled 

And  curtsied  foolishly.     They  told  her  to; 
I  must  be  humored. 

Thou  great  golden  day, 
I  was  so  happy — am  so  miserable. 
Who  can  hold  joy?     And  yet  I  would  that  one, 
One  of  the  flock  of  lords  had  thought  of  me 
As  the  gay  company  ran  by  my  walls. 
He  might  have  looked  up  thoughtfully,  have  said, 
'  Some  one  lives  pent  within  those  wondrous  walls, 
So  marvellously  kissed  by  greenery, 
So  beautified  by  love — some  beating  life 
Thrusts  its  poor  head  between  the  ivied  bars, 
Eager  for  liberty ! '     They  never  think, 
Those  happy  nobles.     I  am  very  poor 

In  reason  if  I  hope  so.     Let  it  be. 
The  wind  wails  tearfully  along  the  walks 
And  the  gray  sky  hangs  ominously  low. 
What  haunts  me?     I  have  felt  a  heavy  hand 
Laid  on  my  shoulder.     I  have  heard  a  step 
Following  stealthily  along  the  hall, 

[63] 


TO     HIM     THAT    KNOCKETH 

Following  ghost-like,  terrible  and  grim, 
Following  ceaselessly  until  my  heart 
Echoed  the  haunting  footsteps  in  my  ears, 
Beating  out  life-throbs  wearily.     O  hark, 

Hear  it  come  after  me — O  God,  O  God! 

-  ^ 

My  shriek  has  rent  the  vapors  of  my  fears, 
I  breathe  again.     Why,  I  am  young  and  brave; 
Even  the  spectre  of  my  father's  will 
Following  hard  upon  me  cannot  hold 
The  springing,  soaring  freedom  of  my  hope. 

To-night  I  look  up  at  the  vast  black  sky 
Seeking  a  star!     I  love  them.     They  are  small, 
Seem  somehow  friendly  and  protective.     O, 
There  shines  my  star,  wondrously  silver-pure 
Gleaming  upon  me  thro'  the  awful  night! 
I  look  into  the  blackness  of  my  life 
And  find  a  mystery  of  new-born  joy. 
What  is  this  strange  new  impulse — happiness? 
I  never  knew  the  fleet  sweet  winsome  thing. 
Hope?     O,  I  have  killed  all  hope  with  tears. 
This  is  desire  like  a  flame-hot  star 
Streaming  across  the  night  of  hopelessness, 

[64] 


TO     HIM     THAT    KNOCKETH 

Drop  down,  O  very  swift  and  mighty  star! 
Thou  dost  but  herald  bitterness  more  vast — 
A  surging  fire  kindled  at  thy  light 
To  set  my  soul  aflame.     Most  hellishly 
Shall  I  burn  unconsumed,  forever  burn ! 

Desire  of  what  nameless  ecstasy? 
I  swore  to  stifle  it,  but  I  am  drawn 
Half-fascinated  to  the  edge  of  night 
To  gaze  upon  it.    What  do  I  desire  ? 

0  mad,  mad  soul — O  frenzied  spirit! 

God, 
This  is  the  mandate  of  thy  tyranny. 

1  do  desire  love — O  flaming  star, 
I  do  desire  love! 

I  dared  not  look 
Upon  my  image  in  the  lofty  glass 
(When  I  had  fled  the  magic  of  the  night 
And  that  hot  star)  :  I  hid  my  burning  eyes 
Under  the  cloud  of  hair  that  fell  around, 
Lifeless  and  heavy.     So  I  stood.     The  night 
Marched  mightily  across  the  world — no  sound 
To  stir  my  spirit — breathless,  silent,  dull 

[65] 


TO     HIM     THAT    KNOCKETH 

The  great  room  yawned  around  me  and  beyond 
A  small  white  glimmer  in  the  heavy  dark 
Showed  me  my  bed,  that  narrow  place  of  pain 
Tenanted  by  my  agony  and  dreams, 
Tumbled  by  sleepless  thoughts. 

Sudden  I  cried 

'This  fear  is  craven,'  lifted  up  my  head 
And  stared  upon  mine  image.     One  tall  light 
Like  a  pale  ghost  lit  up  the  gleaming  glass 
In  its  black  ebon  frame.     I  looked — O  God, 
Another  face  stole  all  my  lineaments. 
The  eyes  frowned  out  at  me  from  massy  brows, 
The  lips,  a  firm  hard  line  in  the  black  mesh 
Of  beard — a  broad  white  forehead,  mighty  neck, 
My  father !     Quick  I  seized  the  candlestick, 
Hurled  it  against  that  stony  brow — the  crash 
Shivered  my  being!     I  have  lain  all  night 
Prone  in  the  blackness  on  my  chamber-floor 
Knowing  myself  a  murderer  in  thought. 

The  hunt  has  passed  again.     I  saw  them  all: 
Perched  on  a  battlement  of  stone,  so  high 
I  must  have  seemed  like  some  rare  pennant  flung 
In  many-colored  folds  upon  the  wind, 
I  saw  them.    There  were  ladies  purple-clad 

[66] 


TO     HIM     THAT    KNOCKETH 

With  gallant-streaming  plumes  upon  their  heads 
And  many  knights  in  strangest  gay  array. 
I  never  saw  a  man  like  that.    They  laughed! 
Strange — I  have  never  laughed.     The  ladies 

looked 

Gayly  upon  the  lords  who  doffed  their  hats, 
Let  out  the  riot  of  long  hair  to  play 
And  dance  upon  the  wind.    There  rode  a  knight 
Hindmost  of  all  the  company,  tall,  fair, 
Sunny-haired  like  a  god!     His  plumes  flew  out, 
White  messengers  of  peace.     How  strong  he  was, 
As  strong  as  my  desire  for  him.     Ah, 
He  could  raze  all  these  fierce  old  walls,  could 

spring 

Lightly  o'er  every  barrier  between 
And  yet  he  passed  and  left  me ! 

How  they  laughed! 
How  strange  they  seemed  to  me  and  beautiful! 

I  shall  send  after  him  a  wind-swift  wish 

To  run  upon  his  track,  leap  at  his  steed 

And  creep  into  his  heart — this,  my  desire 

Shall  surely  bring  him  to  me.    O,  I  want 

More  than  all  freedom,  more  than  life  and  hope, 

[67] 


TO     HIM     THAT    KNOCKETH 

More  than  the  happiness  I  hungered  for, 
More  than  aught  else  I  want  his  tenderness! 

How  great  a  thing  this  love  of  loves  can  be, 
How  it  can  seize  the  soul  and  spur  the  life 
Into  a  frenzy  of  attainment !    Hear, 

0  rushing  winds,  I  love  him — hoary  trees, 

1  love  him! 

I  have  lived  so  long  alone 
With  my  own  life  I  know  the  very  beat 
Of  smallest  impulse.     Know  myself?     My  God, 
What  other  can  I  know  ?    What  hast  Thou  willed 
For  mine  employment  but  the  endless  look 
Into  my  own  poor  being?     Introspect? 
What  is  there  left  me  but  cold  introspect? 
So  that  I  know  myself  and  loathe  myself, 
Sick,  sick  to  death  of  looking  on  myself! 

He  would  be  very  tender.     In  the  night 
When  I  am  lonely  with  vast  loneliness 
Too  great  for  tears,  his  love  would  fold  my  heart 
Quite  warmly  all  around  and  leave  no  room 
For  pain! 

[68] 


TO     HIM     THAT    KNOCKETH 

What  if  he  came  and  loved  me  not? 
It  cannot  be.     But  if  he  came  and  laughed 
Carelessly  at  me  as  at  those  fair  dames 
And  flung  his  scornful  manhood  at  my  fears 
Half-satirizing  my  poor  earnestness, 
I  would  draw  out  the  dagger  that  I  wear 
And  plunge  it  in  his  heart — quite  deep. 

You  see 

I  am  not  altogether  young.     But  if 
He  loved  another  I  would  cast  my  life 
Broken  and  trampled  like  a  seared  leaf 
Down  at  his  feet  and  lie  there  half  alive, 
Half  dead  in  impulse,  vibrant  with  my  woe 
And  let  him  raise  or  kill  me  as  he  would. 
I 

Since  I  have  loved,  I  live!    O,  in  this  space 
The  world  has  opened  to  me  and  I  read 
The  meaning  of  all  life.     So  do  we  learn, 
We  women.     I  have  read  so  much  in  books, 
Have  known  the  soul  of  woman,  Helen,  Ruth, 
Great  passion-blinded  Cleopatra,  her, 
The  wife  of  wives  Alcestis.     I  have  lived 
With  them  and  learned  their  spirits,  found  in  them 
The  very  unnamed  forces  of  my  life 

[69] 


TO     HIM     THAT    KNOCKETH 

Quiescent,  till  my  love  has  raised  them  up ! 
Those  women  taught  me  how  to  think.     We  are 
So  quick  to  grasp  all  beauty,  very  swift 
To  seize  the  truth — intuitive.    We  live 
From  the  heart-centres,  do  we  not,  all  ye 
Great  women  I  have  known  and  loved? 

God  knows, 

So  far  my  father  failed  to  hamper  me, 
He  left  me  books,  forgetting  that  they  are 
The  monuments  of  thought  and  life. 

Hie 

Among  the  gentle  grasses.     I  can  hear 
Them  tug  against  the  fetters  of  their  roots. 
They  love  the  sun,  a  warm  and  real  thing. 
What  do  I  love?    A  shadow.     All  the  rest, 
The  beings  in  my  life  are  shadows  too, 
Myself,  a  queen  of  shadows.     But  I  know 
Somehow  the  living  impulse  of  it  all 
Has  taught  me  that  desire  of  a  thing 
Is  prophecy  of  its  attainment.     Lo, 
I  shall  yet  have  my  love  because  my  soul 
Cries  out  for  it — this  wondrous  sun-gold  thing, 
This  most  divinest  ecstasy,  my  love! 

[70] 


TO     HIM     THAT    KNOCKETH 

I  peered  behind  a  tapestry  by  chance 

And  saw  a  little  low-browed  beetling  door 

That  lurked  away  from  me.     I  flung  it  wide 

And  stepped  within  the  chamber — ranged  books 

Of  war  and  law  and  history,  wide  maps 

The  world  in  miniature,  an  ample  chair 

Sternly  carved  in  black  walnut,  empty  walls 

And  iron  hangings — that  was  all  and  yet 

My  father's  spirit  lived  there  incarnate. 

It  seemed  as  tho'  I  stood  within  his  heart, 

That  iron  prison,  in  the  dark  stern  place, 

I  the  sole  light,  the  only  beauty,  I 

The  loneliest  drear  love  of  all  his  life ! 

Then  the  great  walls  closed  on  me  nearer,  strong, 

Terrible,  cruel,  loving  with  that  love 

That  kills  the  well-beloved.     How  they  closed, 

Drew  tall  around  me — '  Room,  O  give  me  room  1 ' 

I  shrieked,  '  I  cannot  love  you — give  me  room  1 ' 

The  walls  cracked  from  the  topmost,  rushed  apart, 

Fell  into  ruin,  left  me  desolate 

In  that  old  empty  chamber.     O  my  life, 

Why  must  this  awful  memory  of  him 

Tower  colossally  above  my  mind? 

I  have  lived  quietly  within  the  walls 


TO     HIM     THAT    KNOCKETH 

And  never  broken  his  stern  rule. 

Thereon 

A  voice  came  to  me  like  a  star-clear  bell : 
'  Yet  thou  hast  lived,  lived,  loved  in  spite  of  him — 
He  was  the  thief.     O  dare  to  live  and  love. 
Be  not  afraid — Thou  art  thyself — thine  own  I ' 

When  the  old  earth  stirs  under  morning  kiss 
And  lifts  up  arms  to  seize  all  beauty,  I 
Stand  quite  alone  upon  my  battlement 
And  send  my  soul  out  to  my  love.    Desire, 
Strong,  vital  and  prophetic,  lives  in  me, 
Grows  into  great  perfection !    He  will  come, 
Tho'  I  wait  thro'  the  night  of  centuries, 
Sit  carven  like  a  lichen-covered  rock, 
Motionless,  gray  and  waiting;  I  shall  wait, 
Sure  of  his  coming,  sending  that  great  wish 
To  speed  him !    I  have  conquered.    He  will  come. 


[72] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS     MAN 


Below  us  sings  the  sea;  to-day  he  casts 
His  majesty  aside  and  lulls  the  rocks 
With  such  sweet  music,  that  his  tenderness 
Tears  at  their  stony  feet !     '  O  let  us  go,' 
They  cry,  '  The  sea  is  masterful !     And  we, 
Tho'  rugged,  are  all  eager  for  his  love.' 

Out  there,  a  delicate  gray  ocean  bird 

Swims  in  that  other  blue  above  us,  wide, 

So  wide  it  is,  so  infinitely  great, 

My  soul  mounts  up,  up,  like  the  silver  bird, 

Inspired  yet  knowing  not  the  potency 

That  speaks  aloud  thro'  such  blue  magnitude. 

The  sands  come  gladly  down  to  meet  the  sea. 
On  them  I  read  strange  writings,  destiny 

[75] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 

Too  great  for  me — a  prophecy  of  joy 

And  hope  and  bitter  sorrow.     Far  away, 

One  solitary  figure  walks  along 

Toward  me.     All  the  blueness  of  the  world 

And  that  one  figure  walking  toward  me.     God, 

I  am  so  very  small — Thou  art  so  great ! 


[76] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


II 


He  takes  such  strong  possession  of  my  life 

That  I  am  meek  before  him,  penitent 

To  be  unworthy  of  the  ardent  strife 

He  wages  for  my  spirit,  well-content. 

The  great  virility  of  his  desire 

That  would  raze  all  the  obstacles  between 

The  creature,  me,  does  potently  inspire 

Great  reverence  within  me.     O,  I  ween 

He  is  a  man — a  man !    And  I  am  weak, 

Being  a  woman.     O,  I  fear  his  love, 

Fear  the  great  passion-vengeance  he  would  wreak. 

And  yet,  how  very  tender  he  would  prove. 


[77] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


III 


O  very  long  ago  I  made  a  vow 

Never  to  yield  my  soul  up  utterly, 

Never  to  stoop  to  such  ignoble  truce, 

Never  to  seek  the  solace  of  a  love 

That  were  half-sensual — to  know  no  rest 

Till  I  had  shut  me  forcibly  within 

The  iron  prison  of  my  self-control, 

And  once  inside  surround  me  wondrously 

With  undreamed  beauty,  delicate  as  morn, 

Tender  as  evening,  passionate  as  noon, 

Yet  beauty  of  my  own  creation,  pure, 

Immaculate,  untainted  by  desire ! 

That  was  my  vow;  should  I  not  reverence  it? 


[78] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS     MAN 


IV 


To-night  he  comes.     O  little  kindly  star 
Hung  quaintly  at  the  window  of  my  soul, 
Shine  silverly!     And  tho'  my  pain  doth  mar 
This  chamber  of  my  spirit,  make  me  whole, 
Cleanse  me  and  fashion  me!     O  infinite 
White  light  of  beauty,  glorify  my  night! 

To-night  he  comes  and  in  that  little  word 
I  do  unroll  the  carpet  of  my  dreams 
Before  this  arrogant  and  gracious  lord 
Who  has  so  stormed  my  spirit.     O  meseems, 
This  is  a  world  of  tenderness !    Afar, 
Ten  thousand  lovers  worship  thee,  my  star. 

I  do  so  love  him  that  my  heart  would  pray 

Great  pain  for  him,  soul-tearing  agony, 

That  I  might  kiss  his  suffering  away 

And  blot  his  woe  out  with  vast  sympathy. 

Yet,  if  he  suffer,  all  my  tenderness 

Doth  bleed  great  drops  of  life-red  bitterness! 

[79] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


He  turned  my  face  up  swiftly  to  his  lips 
And  kissed  me  hard  upon  the  eyes.     I  feel 
The  burning  beauty  of  his  passion  now: 
The  magic  loveliness  of  that  first  kiss 
Sealing  my  eyes  to  dreams  magnificent 
Clears  my  low  vision.     I  can  see  his  soul, 
His  vast  and  gentle  soul,  can  hear  his  life 
Beat  up  against  my  heart. 

In  the  still  night, 

He  strode  so  resolutely  thro'  my  dreams 
It  seemed  as  tho'  he  stood  beside  my  bed ! 


[80] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


VI 


Worn  and  cavern-eyed,  sorrowful,  gray, 
Towers  the  ancient  woman  of  Flete. 
Her  eyes  go  questing  away,  away 
Where  the  worlds  of  sea  and  heaven  meet. 
(O  woe  for  the  women  that  wait!) 

Panting  and  agonized,  eagerly  swift 

Beats  the  life  of  her  bosom,  that  ancient  place 

Where  her  loves  have  lain.     Will  the  mist-clouds 

lift 

And  show  her  the  gleam  of  a  tender  face? 
(O  woe  for  the  women  that  wait!) 

Never  the  voice  I  would  hear, 
Never  the  heart  I  would  hold, 
But  a  horrible  icy  fear 
And  the  creeping  salt-sea  cold! 

(O  woe  for  the  women  that  wait!) 


[81] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


VII 


Such  a  hush  on  the  world — such  immaculate 

morning  peace, 
Such  a  tremulous  throb  of  waiting.    The  gray 

waves  cease 
Their  ardently  murmurous  whisper.     The 

beaches  lie 

In  generous  silver  surrender  beneath  the  sky. 
O  the  wonderful  matinal  quiet !    My  spirit  aspires 
To  the  wide-soaring  archway  of  heaven.     This 

beauty  inspires 

Such  exquisite  tenderness  in  me — such  terrible  joy! 
Kneel  reverent,   O  my  young  spirit !     The  day 

is  at  hand 

And  the  marvellous  sea  and  the  sky  and  the  low- 
lying  land 
Unite  their  great  paeans  of  worship — the  day  is 

at  hand! 

Gold  beauty  that  shines  on  the  sea 
Shine  softly  on  me ! 
Great  grayness  of  sea  rushing  in, 
Multitudinous  din, 

[82] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS     MAN 

Teach  me  thy  resignation!     Give  me  peace; 
Roll  over  me  thy  endless  waves,  nor  cease 
To  chant  melodious  loud  prophecy 
Of  the  black  stretches  of  futurity. 
Love  is  not  greatest  in  this  wondrous  world 
Where  all  is  great.     I  turn  me  to  the  sky 
And  all  the  company  of  nature,  woods 
Of  mystery  and  lakes  and  ocean  waves — 
Let  me  grow  wise  in  your  humility! 

And  yet  the  mystic  writing  on  the  beach! 

I  must  go  on.     I  must  accomplish  this 

For  which  the  centuries  have  sent  me  forth ! 


83] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


VIII 

White  roses  climbing  up  the  hill, 
White  roses,  are  ye  virgin  still? 
Or  has  some  finger  spoiled  your  loveliness 
By  a  too-ardent  sudden  tenderness? 

White  roses  swaying  to  the  wind, 

White  roses,  are  ye  always  kind 

To  the  hot  bee  that  sucks  your  soul  out?     Shine 

Ever  your  petals  tremulous,  divine? 

White  roses,  dropping  autumn  tears, 
White  roses,  do  your  heart's  arrears 
Of  love  and  hope  and  yearning  torture  ye? 
Or  are  ye  well-content  as  I  must  be? 


[84] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS     MAN 


IX 


Paces  his  love  thro'  all  my  soul-rooms.     O, 
I  am  a  puerile  creature !     Must  I  yield 
And  cease  the  torture  that  is  hell  to  me 
And  lowest  hell  to  him? 

Last  night  I  tore 

All  self-deceit  and  folly  from  my  life 
And  looked  at  truth.     I  love  him,  yet  am  proud, 
Too  pitiably  proud  of  my  poor  self 
To  tender  him  my  soul.     Can  this  be  right? 
In  loving  we  must  lose  identity 
And  worship  to  the  fullness  of  our  souls. 
I  should  be  glad  to  yield  me  and  am  sad. 
I  am  irrevocably  cursed.     His  step? 
Why  do  I  start  and  tremble?    He  is  near, 
O  he  is  near,  my  great  impetuous 
And  lordly  love !     His  footsteps  follow  me 
Like  those  swift  bodeful  writings  on  the  beach ! 


[85] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


X 


My  loving  is  accomplished — I  do  yield. 
I  am  ashamed  to  look  on  heaven's  face 
For  I  acknowledge  that  this  human  love 
Is  greater  than  my  spirit.     O  my  God, 
Forgive  me  for  my  pitiable  self, 
Forgive  me  for  the  weakness  of  my  life ! 

Yet  there  is  joy  in  yielding.     I  can  lie 
Tenderly  on  his  spirit,  knowing  well 
No  shade  of  bitterness,  no  slightest  thing 
Stands  grim  between  us.    All  my  weariness 
Has  ebbed  out  with  the  tide.    Across  the  sea 
Love  walks  to  me  resplendent  and  I  yield! 


[86] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


XI 


Bleak  gray  of  dawn  and  sorrowful  slow  rain 
And  chill  cold  wind — this  is  my  bridal  morn ! 
Below  upon  the  miserable  sand 
That  seems  somehow  too  flat  and  desolate 
The  old  gray  church  shivers  up  to  the  trees 
Girt  by  a  tombstone  company.     One  light 
Shines  timidly  across  the  waste  between, 
Prophetic  that  across  the  waste  within 
A  loving  faith  can  send  out  sympathy. 
God  knows  I  am  not  cowardly!     My  life 
Has  passed  so  isolate  from  other  lives 
That  I  must  needs  be  brave,  but  this  gray  morn 
And  the  slow  penitent  rain  have  chilled  my  soul. 
The  step  is  so  irrevocable.    Life 
Will  lead  on  so  immeasurably  long 
From  that  old  church-door. 

Will  the  way  be  glad, 
Or  infinitely  bitter — matters  not. 
I  have  elected  it  and  must  go  on 
Thro'  shining  meadows  or  thro'  barren  flats, 

[87] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 

Always  irrevocably  I  must  go! 

But  this  great  soul  that  I  have  loved,  so  loved, 

With  every  fibre  of  my  being  loved, 

With  every  bitter  memory  I  hold — 

With  him,  what  way  can  lead  thro'  agony, 

What  path  be  altogether  desert?     See, 

The  leaden  clouds  have  lifted — O  the  sun ! 


[88] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


XII 

Not  that  my  love  for  him  is  all  desire, 
Not  that  the  woman  me  yearns  after  him 
A  man,  the  master.    No,  the  greatest  good 
Of  this  vast  passion  in  me  is  the  pride, 
The  reverent  worship  of  him.     I  am  wrong, 

0  many  bitter  times  my  way  is  wrong, 
But  he  has  never  broken  the  pure  faith 
My  spirit  gives  his  righteousness. 

O  love, 

Great  gracious  love,  thou  soul  of  me,  I  yearn 
To  walk  with  thee  in  that  ideal  ground 
Whereon  thou  buildest  thine  abiding  place. 

1  would  so  leave  the  low  paths  of  the  world, 
So  cut  away  the  garments  of  the  flesh, 

So  tear  away  all  passion  from  my  soul 

That  I  might  mount  to  thee — and  in  the  light, 

Th'  effulgent  beauty  of  thine  inmost  life, 

Feeling  my  way,  half-dazed,  upward,  reach  thee 

In  ecstasy  of  great  attainment,  know 

The  infinite  vast  wonder  of  thy  soul 

And  so  enfold  me  in  all  purity! 

[89] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


XIII 

O  happy-hearted  wind,  thou  fiowest 
O'er  the  world-meadows!     Ah,  thou  knowest 
The  great  gray  peaks  of  mountain-lands  and  seas 
As  blameless  and  as  blue  as  heaven's  peace ! 

O  mighty-going  wind  thou  criest, 

Over  the  universe  thou  fliest 

Like  some  presage-ful  bird  of  sombre  mien — 

So  dost  thou  hover,  vulture-dark  dost  lean ! 

O  wind,  thou  hast  a  heart  of  sympathy, 
Being  so  great,  for  such  an  one  as  I. 
The  whole  great  world  is  grown  so  beautiful 
Since  I  have  bowed  to  love  and  dutiful 
Done  him  obeisance,  that  my  soul  would  shout 
The  paeans  of  my  happiness,  put  out 
The  stars  with  the  great  breathings  of  its  fire ! 
Lend  me  thy  voice,  O  wind — give  me  thy  arm ! 
Let  me  install  myself,  exempt  from  harm 

[90] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 

Of  evil  on  a  godly  mountain-peak 
And  sing  my  gladness !    O  my  spirit,  speak 
To  the  great  world,  give  them  the  mystic  word 
That  Love,  Love,  Love  is  sovereign  and  lord! 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


XIV 

I  know  such  mystically  dear  delight, 

Such  exquisite  and  tranquil  happiness 

It  seems  as  tho'  I  rested  in  a  cloud 

Golden  as  sunset  and  felt  loving  strength 

Lift  me  and  bear  me  up  forever.     Ah, 

He  is  so  tender  of  me,  quick  to  shield, 

Strong  as  the  ancient  rocks,  yet  animate 

With  such  dear  passion.    All  our  days  are  dreams 

Wherein  great  happenings  are  consummate 

And  all  our  nights  flow  peacefully  between 

Lit  by  white  stars  of  purest  tenderness. 

My  life  has  widened  infinitely.     Now 

I  do  not  hold  the  aims  of  one  small  soul 

But  grasp  the  beauty  of  two  spirits,  blent 

In  wonderful  ecstatic  sympathy! 


[92] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


XV 


Love,  yonder  little  silver-crowned  wave, 
Bringeth  thee  all  the  treasures  of  my  heart, 
Throweth  my  loving  on  thy  life-sand's  breadth- 
In  utter  glad  surrender,  I  am  thine ! 

Love,  yonder  exquisite-fair  summer  cloud 
Is  where  my  prayer  for  thine  eternal  joy 
Passed  up  to  God !     He  touched  it  tenderly, 
And  made  it  beautiful  because  of  thee, 
Because  of  my  great  love  and  reverence ! 

Love,  I  can  bring  thee  but  my  inmost  self 
Quivering  with  fair  happiness.     O  love, 
Take  me  and  make  me  what  thou  deemest  well- 
In  utter  glad  surrender,  I  am  thine! 


[93] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


XVI 

There  is  a  time  for  tenderness,  I  ween — 
'Tis  just  when  all  the  beauty  of  the  day 
Lies  warm  against  the  bosom  of  the  night 
And  raises  love-wide  eyes  to  meet  his  lips ! 

There  is  a  time  for  weariness.     I  know 
'Tis  when  the  night  has  kissed  day's  beauty  out 
Passionately.    Her  long  gray  twilight  hair 
Trails  on  the  'earth.    Where  art  thou,  O  my  love? 


[94] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


XVII 

Shadow  reigns  on  thy  brow.     O  let  my  art 

Soothe  all  the  tired  bitterness  away! 

What  evil  canst  thou  suffer  not  mine  own? 

What  terrible  swift  agony  can  beat 

Molten-hot  in  thy  veins  and  I  not  know 

The  anguish  with  thee?    O,  our  lives  have  grown 

Too  closely  knit  for  separation!     E'en 

In  pain  and  sorrow  we  must  be  akin. 

It  is  my  right.     May  I  not  suffer  too? 


[95] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


XVIII 

All  night  the  wind  has  crept  around  the  house 
Hunted  and  moaning  like  a  stricken  thing; 
All  night  the  waves  have  railed  against  the  beach 
Threatening,  clamoring  and  terrible! 

All  night  my  heart  has  crouched  within  me  cold 
Before  the  stroke  of  some  great  destiny; 
All  night  my  spirit  sobs  impotently 
Before  this  imminent  and  bitter  woe ! 


[96] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


XIX 

He  spoke  to  me  quite  calmly.     O  my  God, 

My  happiness  has  crashed  to  ruin!     Lights 

Whirl  in  my  brain.     I  am  alone  i'  the  dark 

With  no  one  near  me.     O,  I  have  believed, 

Trusted  in  him,  lived,  grown  and  loved  in  him, 

Seen  all  my  future  by  the  gracious  light 

Of  his  great  spirit — great,  O  God,  no  more ! 

I  cannot  understand  my  solitude. 

Where  art  thou,  soul?     Where  art  thou,  love? 

O  life, 

Crush  me  beneath  thy  wheels,  crush  me,  I  pray, 
But  keep  him  pure  for  me !     My  tender  love, 
Come  thou  to  me — come  swiftly !  Thou  art  near — 
But  not  with  that  black  stain  upon  thy  soul! 


[97] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


XX 


He  has  a  man's  keen  cruelty — a  high 
Cold  disregard  for  women.     The  black  sin 
That  yawns  between  us  like  a  great  abyss 
Opened  another  chasm  for  a  soul 
Made  like  me,  womanly  and  delicate. 
The  beauty  of  our  life's  all  mockery 
Since  some  can  drag  it  vilely  in  the  dust. 
I  think  there's  some  great  evil  thing  above, 
Squats  toad-like  in  the  clouds  and  laughs  at  us 
Poor  flies  that  one  day  shake  their  wings  too  fast, 
And  so  fly  up  to  him  and  down  his  jaws! 


98] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS     MAN 


XXI 

O,  is  it  right?     If  thou  be  there,  O  God, 

Answer  me  in  mine  anguish — is  it  right? 

I  gave  him  every  glory  of  my  soul, 

All  the  white  flowers  of  my  womanhood, 

For  which  he  flings  me  such  vast  bitterness 

As  mounts  above  the  world  and  drowns  the  stars 

And  blackens  all  the  universe !     My  soul 

Is  torn  apart!     I  cannot  reach  thee,  God. 

I  cannot  touch  thy  garments  to  be  healed. 

O,  I  am  desolate!     He  was  so  dear, 

So  infinitely,  tenderly  divine, 

So  infinitely,  loathsomely  defiled! 


[99] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


XXII 

Here  on  my  pillow,  all  my  hair  outspread 

Lies  lavishly  as  he  would  have  it !     Ah, 

I  feel  the  tender  passion  of  his  touch 

On  these  poor  locks.     Can  it  be  he  is  here? 

Can  such  wide  desolation  lie  between 

Beings  as  fast  united  as  we  two? 

His  breathing  evenly  disturbs  the  peace. 

I  cannot  hear  the  moaning  of  the  sea 

That  strives  to  send  me  subtle  sympathy. 

I  cannot  hear  the  beating  of  the  wind 

That  knows  my  utter  woe.     I  only  hear 

His  horrible  slow  breathing  thro'  the  gloom. 

It  rises  over  all  the  midnight  world, 

It  shuts  out  sea  and  wind  and  sympathy, 

Even  and  unrelenting  as  my  doom ! 


[100] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


XXIII 

We  walk  upon  the  beaches.     All  the  world 
Applauds  two  model  lovers.    'There  they  go, 
So  sympathetic  there's  no  need  for  words, 
So  tender  of  each  other !     See  her  move 
Aside  to  the  hard  path  as  wanting  him 
To  walk  upon  the  smoother  way! '     Ha,  ha! 
We  model  lovers  walk  as  unconstrained 
As  mortal  enemies.    Our  sympathy 
Is  like  the  sympathy  of  mutual  hate : 
My  tenderness  for  him  is  just  the  wish 
To  turn  aside  and  quick  avoid  the  hand 
He  reaches  out  mechanic'ly  for  help. 


[101] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


XXIV 

Now  after  all,  I  lie  on  these  great  rocks 
Alone  with  God  and  Emptiness.     My  Self 
Stands  up  and  faces  me.     I  see  her  eyes 
Clouded  with  one  black  stain — one  fatal  brand 
Burns  in  the  pallid  whiteness  of  her  brow. 
Thou  Self,  go  cleanse  thee!    Thou  art  so  pollute 
I  cannot  look  at  thee.     O  mighty  Fate, 
What  hast  thou  laid  upon  me?    This  is  woe 
More  bitter  than  the  bitterness  of  loss, 
More  cruel  than  the  wrench  of  agony. 
Must  I  be  wracked  and  torn  and  know  my  sin — 
The  hate  of  his  black  spirit,  but  the  love, 
Damnable,  wretched,  haunting  love  of  him ! 


[102] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


XXV 

Yes,  I  do  love  him — there  is  all  my  shame. 
Now  after  many  years  of  hellish  woe, 
Wherein  our  lives  have  walked  as  isolate 
One  from  the  other  as  antipodes, 
I  do  acknowledge  love  for  him.     If  he 
Came  to  me,  seized  me,  held  me  to  him,  cried 
'  Thou  art  mine  own.    Love  me ! '  I  would  comply 
And  nestle  shamefully  against  his  heart, 
Glad  of  the  sweet  companionship.     O  shame, 
Terrible  shame  of  women  that  they  love 
When  he  who  tore  their  hearts  out  smiles  awhile 
Then  lightly  hies  him  to  his  pleasure  place ! 
He  has  outraged  my  purity  and  seized, 
Knowing  himself  unworthy,  that  white  thing 
That  could  not  be  his  due ! 

Infinity, 

Absorb  me  in  thy  boundless  nullity! 
Hide  the  abomination  of  my  love 
From  God  and  Life  and  Beauty — Give  me 
Death ! 

[  103] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


XXVI 

Small  children  play  beneath  my  window-ledge 
So  near  that  I  could  touch  their  lightsome  heads 
Were  I  not  half-afraid  to  spoil  their  play 
By  publishing  my  presence.     Little  gods, 
Sunny-haired,  smiling,  small — O,  I  would  seize 
The  boldest  of  the  company  and  bear 
His  lithe  young  beauty  to  a  hiding-place 
And  love  him  with  the  ecstasy  of  hope 
And  woe  and  bliss  within  me. 

Nevermore 

May  I  press  close  against  me  a  young  thing 
Small,  perfect,  and  mine  own.     O  mother-soul, 
New-born  within  me,  yearning,  tremulous, 
Destined  to  hunger  ever,  mother-soul, 
Thou  art  the  purest  part  of  me  intact 
Where  all  my  other  faculties  are  numb, 
Broken,  defiled  and  blackened.     O  great  God, 
I  am  so  infinitely  desolate! 


[104] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


XXVII 

Weariness  creeps  upon  me.    At  the  end 
I  ask  no  great  exultant  destiny, 
I  ask  no  beating,  winged  flight,  but  rest, 
Peace  and  a  little  foothold  for  my  soul. 
Let  me  lie  passively  and  watch  my  life 
Pace  by  me  dreamily  and  steadfast — sure 
That  out  there  in  the  world  men  call  to  arms 
And  wage  the  same  brave  warfare  valiantly. 
I  have  so  bruised  my  spirit  in  the  fray, 
Beaten  my  being  cruelly  on  the  steel 
Of  bitterness,  I  hunger  for  deep  rest, 
Rest,  infinite  oblivion  and  repose 
As  strangely  changeless  as  Eternity! 


[105] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS     MAN 


XXVIII 

No,  up,  my  soul,  we  fight.     We  wear  our  arms 
Like  resolution.     On  we  march  steadfast. 
No  cowardly  oblivion,  no  repose, 
No  craven  closing  of  the  eyes.    Up,  soul! 
The  battlefield  lies  wide  as  life  and  we 
Have  all  our  lives  to  fight  in!     Victory! 


[106] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS     MAN 


XXIX 

The  little  eager  waves  run  up  in  the  gloom, 

They  call  to  me,  insistent — '  Sister,  come ! ' 

I  must  rise  earnestly  and  go  to  them, 

Out  under  quietude  of  waning  night, 

Out  to  the  wide  firm  beaches — to  the  sea ! 

How  eagerly  and  formlessly  it  heaves 

Darkly  beneath  the  darkness  of  the  sky. 

Breathes  a  low  whisper  of  eternity, 

Breathes — then  the  quietude.     I  am  afraid. 

In  the  thick  darkness  I  can  feel  the  wings 

Of  a  great  spirit  multitude.     I  know 

God  walks  this  way !    Come  up,  ye  little  waves, 

Pitiful  weeping  waves,  come  up  to  me! 

Let  me  enfold  ye  in  my  barren  heart. 

Ye  will  forget  the  solitude  of  night 

And  the  great  empty  solitude  of  day! 

No,  get  ye  back.     The  Mother-Sea  is  wroth, 

Lashes  her  indignation  at  my  feet. 

O,  be  thou  gentle — I  am  desolate! 

Why  am  I  troubled?    This  vast  mystery 
[107] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 

Holds  no  great  menace  for  me.     Harken — there ! 
Did  I  not  hear  a  footstep  beating,  swift 
Along  the  barren  sands? 

God,  is  it  Thou? 

That  solitary  figure  and  the  sands 
Placid  below,  the  sky  and  the  great  sea — 
I  saw  it  all  before. 

'  You  here  ?     You— here? ' 
He  answered,  '  I  can  play  the  farce  no  more. 
Let  us  walk  quietly  out  to  the  sea, 
Leave  the  fierce  strife  and  lose  identity, 
Dying  united  where  we  lived  apart. 
Forgive  me — that  were  cowardice!     Come  in 
To  the  low  level  of  our  common  life! ' 

'O  no, 

Let  me  see  dawn  run  lightly  o'er  the  sky ! ' 
We  waited.    Thro'  the  midnight-gray  expanse 
Only  the  melancholy  pain  of  waves 
That  sobbed  along  the  beaches  bitterly. 

With  the  white  dawn  came  peace.     I  saw  my  woe 
Futile  and  foolish.     All  my  wickedness 
Of  judgment  where  Eternity  must  judge. 
I  turned  to  him  and  all  the  tenderness 
[108] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 

Of  all  my  loving  leaped  into  my  eyes. 
'  My  spirit  is  too  hungry.     Love,  forgive ! ' 
His  heart  flamed  up  to  greet  me  and  above 
The  pure  dawn  touched  us  very  sacredly! 


[109] 


THIS     WOMAN— AND     THIS    MAN 


XXX 

Some  great  white  thing  lies  stricken  in  our  hearts, 

Some  good  of  infinite  wide  loveliness 

Can  never  glorify  our  souls.    We  live 

The  bitter  life  of  failure  wearily. 

All  vast  ideal  beauty  lieth  dead, 

And  yet,  our  love  has  consecrated  death ! 


[no] 


MATINS 

Last  night,  my  once-beloved,  I  lay  gaunt 
Upon  the  narrow  bed  of  agony 
And  felt  gray  wind  upon  my  face — O  cold, 
So  cold  was  I  with  that  inherent  chill 
Deepest  around  the  heart  that  my  poor  tears 
Froze  on  my  face — O  icy  bitter  drops, 
I  could  not  brush  them  off! 

I  dreamed  of  you, 

One  of  those  terrible  insistent  dreams. 
The  folly  of  my  spirit-emptiness, 
The  barren  mockery  of  that  old  stir 
I  never  feel — shall  never  feel  again; 
The  utter  weak  impossibility 
Of  giving,  giving  what  I  cannot  give — 
Flooded  me  like  a  steel  and  bitter  wave 
From  some  wide  awful  ocean  of  regret ! 
This  morning  as  I  rise  in  weariness 
With  a  same  hopeless  question  in  my  mind; 
Wherefore?     I  find  your  letter  written  fair 
And  loving.     God,  the  mummery!  my  mask 
I  strip  off !     Lo,  I  loose  my  bounden  soul — 
No  love,  no  love,  and  I  must  live  it  out! 


[in] 


A    LOST    LOVE 

O,  I  am  weary  for  you,  deadly  weary, 
Sick  of  the  clamor  of  my  daily  living, 
Hungry  for  rest,  peace,  tenderness !     O  Love, 
The  world  oppresses  me,  a  bitter  burden 
Laid  on  the  sensitive  fine  spirit-vision, 
Blinding  me  with  the  coarseness  of  its  meaning, 
Its  pettiness  and  endless  weary  noise ! 
O,  I  have  need  of  great  sweet  sympathy, 
O,  I  have  need  of  some  dear  firm  belief, 
O,  I  have  need  of  some  vast  loving  faith! 
Dearest,  come  near  me  thro'  the  gloom  of  failure, 
Across  the  deserts  where  I  walked  but  lately, 
Seeking  a  love,  seeking  a  tender  spring 
To  bathe  my  aching  lips,  across  the  forests 
Of  disillusion,  O  come  steadfastly! 

Touch  me  with  some  immortal  eager  yearning, 
Touch  me  with  inspiration,  bring  me  courage 
To  mount  up  thro'  the  lower  air  of  warfare 
Up  thro'  the  midnight  to  the  stars ! 

O  dearest, 

It  may  be  I  have  wronged  you,  built  a  temple 
Too  coldly  white,  too  sternly  idealistic 

[112] 


A    LOST    LOVE 

For  your  abode.     I  worshipped  you.     Forgive 

me: 

Let  me  but  love  you  for  your  wondrous  beauty, 
The  ecstasy  of  hand-clasp  in  the  twilight, 
The  touch  of  living  passions,  lips  that  linger 
Against  the  shining  chrism  of  your  forehead, 
Hearts  that  leap  madly  one  against  the  other; 
Let  me  but  love  you  with  my  all  of  loving! 


["3] 


THE    ANSWER 

No,  dear,  I  cannot  love  you  as  you  wish, 

But  from  my  soul  I  thank  you !     Could  you  know 

The  great  exultant  happiness  of  hope 

That  sings  within  me  since  you  love  me,  dear! 

You  are  my  solitary  lover — all 

Have  left  me  destitute !     Until  you  came 

I  was  the  lover!     Then  the  silence  thrilled, 

Quivered  a  little,  broke  before  your  step 

And  all  the  silver  bells  of  living  air 

Rang  out  majestically!     On,  you  came 

Masterful,  holding  out  a  gift  to  me, 

Stretching  great  hungry  arms  to  seize  me — me, 

0  the  vast  wonder  of  it !    Your  wide  eyes 
Lifted  a  worshipful  hot  love  to  mine, 

Love,  love  and  yet  more  terrible,  strong  love ! 
And  I  who  longed  so  passionately,  cried 
So  futilely  for  tenderness  like  yours — 

1  who  was  lonely  with  a  loneliness 
No  life  could  vitalize  to  ecstasy — 

I  who  have  wanted  love  so  poignantly 
Am  dumb  before  the  great  desired  thing 
And  have  no  love  to  give  you  in  return ! 


[114] 


SELF-KNOWLEDGE 

In  the  great  march  of  long  infinity 
What  am  I?    Why  am  I  thus  racked  by  hope, 
Tuned  to  divinest  frenzy  by  my  love, 
Tortured  by  deep  remorse,  consumed  to  know, 
To  know,  know,  know! 

What  am  I?    After  all 
A  thousand  hearts  have  suffered  all  I  bear, 
A  thousand  souls  have  loved  as  I  can  love, 
A  thousand  lives  have  paced  along  the  world 
And  many  thousands  shall  come  after  me 
In  a  long  ceaseless  unresisting  march, 
Eternal,  ever-going!     I  create, 
But  God  created  universe  before 
Wherein  all  poets  sing  themselves  thro'  life. 
What  are  my  little  deeds,  hopes,  failure,  strife 
To  the  harmonious  and  wondrous  swing 
Of  world  and  star  and  firmament?     My  tears? 
What  are  they  when  the  tears  of  infinite, 
Rain  pours  upon  our  world?    What  are  my  deeds 
When  midnight  marches  down  the  universe 
With  companies  of  stars  upon  his  train 
And  hush  of  beauty  palpitating? 

God, 
What  am  I  in  a  universe? 


SELF-KNOWLEDGE 

One  point 

One  little  point  of  life  that  can  resume 
In  its  small  compass  all  a  universe! 


[116] 


SOUL 

We  are  as  ultimately  isolate 

One  from  the  other  as  if  seas  of  air, 

Void,  voiceless,  fathomless,  divided  us. 

No  help  above  us  but  the  empty  blue; 

No  hope  beneath  us  but  deep  nothingness; 

No  life  but  universal  solitude. 

Thus  we  reach  out  our  hands  to  other  hands, 

Meet  in  the  darkness  for  a  breathing-space, 

Perchance  hold  great  community  of  thought, 

Ideal,  vision,  then  seek  deeper  bonds, 

Strive  to  knit  soul  with  soul  accomplishing 

For  one  eternity  of  instant  bliss 

Infinite  sympathy!     Then   (pity  us, 

Great  God  Creator!)  lose  the  mutual  light, 

Feel  the  great  walls  of  darkness  close  on  us, 

And  once  more  dwell  as  isolate  as  death ! 


APOLOGY 

Why  do  I  laugh?     Because  my  very  life 
Has  turned  into  the  inmost  chamber,  death; 
Has  crouched,  a  pallid  shivering  reproof 
At  God  and  sunshine,  by  the  awful  wall 
Of  secret  sin — because  my  soul  is  choked 
Among  the  withered  vines  of  stricken  hope! 
Why  do  I  laugh?    Because  my  eyes  have  poured 
In  bitter  tears  the  gladness  of  their  spring 
Utterly  out!     The  sorrow  has  made  way 
Mysteriously  to  the  fields  of  peace 
And  bubbling  mirth  and  mountainous  delight 
And  tree-tall  joy! 

First  cometh  tragedy, 
After — the  human  ripeness,  comedy! 
Why  do  I  laugh?     Because  I  often  wept. 
Come,  laugh  with  me  into  the  arms  of  death! 
Who  knows  ?    A  smile  may  warm  his  chilly  soul ! 


[118] 


THE    BRIDGE 

I  am  the  bridge — stretched  here  like  a  thread 
Of  luminous  silver  taut  in  the  sky, 
Under  the  blue,  I  hang!     Below, 
Tree-length  below  me,  water  runs 
Ever  and  ever,  tumbles,  leaps, 
Shrieks  in  wild  passion,  sobs  like  pain, 
Whispers  and  laughs — a  human  thing, 
A  divine  clear  frenzy — water  runs! 
Against  the  pallid  sky,  tall  trees, 
Leafless  and  delicate-branched,  design 
Rare  arabesque.     Who  can  read  such  device 
God  writes  above?     Yet  all  may  see! 
Give  us  the  key  to  the  mystery,  wind! 
What  know  I?    I  am  the  bridge ! 

Two  shores 

Draw  off  in  proud  beauty — two  pebbled  lines 
Of  beach  and  sand  and  solitude, 
Two  separate  shores  draw  proudly  off. 
And  I — the  bridge — can  span  the  way 
Lying  so  widely  between  them — I, 
Consummate  structure  of  steel  and  wood, 
God-planned  and  man-built — I,  the  bridge, 
Can  span  the  void,  can  unite  two  shores ! 
I  am  the  bridge! 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  SUBWAY 

Out  of  the  darkness  I  come — 
Out  of  terrific  black  chaos — 
Thro'  the  great  echoing  tunnel, 
Generous  arching,  but  dreadful 
In  its  deep  underground  stillness! 
Out  of  that  silence  make  way — 
I  issue  fleet,  fleet  from  my  prison, 
Break  my  black  bonds,  cast  my  mantle 
Of  midnight  and  wide  desolation! 

The  darkness  was  thick  as  I  passed, 
The  emptiness  seized  on  me !     Fingers 
Of  vapor-blue  demons  assailed  me, 
Missed  my  firm  iron-clad  hugeness ! 
I  trampled  my  foes  in  the  road-bed — 
I  strode  on  the  demons  that  mocked  me, 
Clamored  derisively  downward, 
And  sent  their  wild  glee  to  the  archway! 
'  Free,'  shouted  all  my  vast  framework — 
'  Free,'  all  the  archways  applauded — 
'  Free,'  welcomed  God  and  the  sunlight  1 

Brief  the  sweet  term  of  my  freedom, 
Brief  as  the  triumph  of  beauty. 
[  120] 


THE  SONG  OF  WHE  SUBWAY 

I  am  a  creature  of  darkness, 

Born  of  the  hurrying  chaos. 

Back  must  I  plunge  like  a  mad  thing 

Into  the  cursed  drear  silence. 

I  shriek — for  my  heart  is  a  discord — 

Discord  and  clamor  metallic! 

Doomed  am  I — doomed  to  long  bondage ! 

See — the  swift  sudden  light  beckons — 
I  must  restrain  my  vast  motion. 
Eager-eyed  people  are  waiting. 
Here  at  the  station  I  rest  me — 
Lovingly  toward  me  they  hasten — 
In — get  ye  in  to  my  bosom, 
All  ye — my  children  who  hasten ! 
Have  I  not  loved  ye  and  borne  ye 
Swift,  as  the  lightning  titanic, 
Swift,  as  the  thunder  majestic! 

Am  I  not  sentient,  glowing? 

Am  I  not  pulsed  with  their  life-blood? 

Beats  not  their  heart  in  my  bosom, 

Iron,  magnificent?     Soars  not 

A  something  transcendent  within  me, 

[121] 


THE  SONG  OF  THE  SUBWAY 

Blent  of  their  myriad  soul-light, 
Sad  with  their  hunger  and  wailing, 
With  joy  multitudinous,  hopeful? 
Beats  not  my  heart  with  their  impulse? 
Soars  not  my  iron  soul  upward? 

Out  of  the  darkness  I  come — 
Out  of  terrific  black  chaos, 
Thro'  the  great  echoing  tunnel, 
Generous  arching,  but  dreadful 
In  its  deep  underground  stillness! 
Out  of  that  silence — make  way — 
I  issue,  fleet,  fleet  from  my  prison, 
Break  my  black  bonds,  cast  my  mantle 
Of  midnight  and  wide  desolation! 


[122] 


THE    GRAY    APE 

Sitteth  shivering  and  gray 
Thro'  the  golden  summer  day 
Sitteth  melancholy  there ! 
In  that  aged  shriveled  air, 
In  that  sloping  wrinkled  front, 
I  can  read  the  ancient  vaunt 
Of  the  animal  supreme! 

With  long,  agile,  winding  arms 
He  mechanically  warms, 
Wraps  himself  and  shivers  still. 
His  bright  eyes  have  found  their  fill 
In  the  human  farce  that  runs 
Endless  by  his  window !     Suns 
Marched  above  him  long  ago, 
Pierced  the  jungle  roof  below 
With  an  unrelenting  beam ! 

Hark  the  jungle-music!     Hear, 
Past  his  little  human  ear 
Myriad  and  sheenful  noise 
Of  the  evening  leaves!     His  toys 
Drop  unheeded  at  his  feet — 
O  how  whimsically  sweet ! 

[123] 


THE    GRAY    APE 

Gone — the  street-cries  hurry  in 
With  a  hideous  old  din 
Like  the  clamor  of  a  dream! 

Sitteth  melancholy  still, 

Bodeful,  brooding  on  great  ill — 

All  the  mighty  motions  spent, 

All  the  age-wide  wonderment 

That  by  some  consummate  span 

Might  have  made  of  him  a  man, 

Not  a  little  slinking  ape 

Of  repellent  lanky  shape ! 

O  the  unrelenting  plan 

Which  by  some  consummate  span 

Might  have  made  of  him  a  man ! 


124] 


MONA    LISA 

Inscrutably  she  smiles.    Across  her  face 
Winds  of  great  agony  sweep  ruthlessly. 
Passes  the  breath  of  joy,  a  gasp  of  pain, 
Happiness,   tranquil  tenderness,   death's  shade, 
Icily  pallid,  life's  wild  thrill  of  hope, 
Sorrow  and  all  the  kindred  bitterness 
Of  memory — so  pass  they,  but  behold, 
Inscrutably,  eternally  she  smiles ! 


[125] 


A     CLOUD 

Yon  cloud  is  a  messenger  hound! 
Gray-pelted  and  fleet 
To  the  feet  of  my  love  he  is  bound. 
Lo,  welcome  him,  Sweet! 

He  hath  ranged  the  blueness  of  heaven, 

Hath  captured  a  star 

And  of  mystical  asphodels,  seven 

He  beareth  afar! 

Fleet,  fleet,  O  my  messenger  hound, 

Cloud- footed,  O  speed! 

To  the  feet  of  my  love  art  thou  bound, 

In  my  gifts  she  shall  read 

All  the  magical  love  I  have  found, 

Shall  interpret  my  need! 

Range  the  blueness  of  heaven — O  speed! 


126] 


Drink  deep  of  life!     To  the  last  lowest  dregs 
Of  bitterness,  quaff  all  the  dainty  foam 
Of  ecstasy,  quintessence  of  the  draught! 
Drink  deep!     Some  mighty  hand  may  grasp  the 

cup 
And  spill  the  crimson  vintage!     Drink,  I  say! 

Drink  deep  of  love !     Who  knows  what  potency 

May  change  the  sweet  to  bitterness — may  crush 

The  rose-leaf  goblet  into  nothingness? 

Drink  deep,  nor  question  what  may  lie  concealed 

Beneath  the  glitter  of  the  draught,  what  woe, 

Cold  disillusion  and  oblivion! 

Drink  deep  of  love  nor  question!    Drink,  I  say! 

Drink  deep  of  death!  Plunge  in  the  infinite, 
Down  ever  deeper  to  the  blackest  depths 
No  spirit  ever  quaffed !     Drink  bravely,  man  ! 
Some  greater  draught  awaits  thee,  some  rare  wine 
More  golden  than  the  tenderness  of  love, 
More  crimson  than  the  majesty  of  life — 
Drink  deep  of  death,  O  man,  nor  be  afraid! 


127] 


SICK    FANCIES 

Pain  has  become  to  me  the  throbbing  beat 

Of  all  the  hearts  of  men.     Steady,  superb, 

Marches  the  progress  of  my  suffering 

Till  all  my  thoughts  throb  with  it,  pulse  and  throb, 

Steadily,  unrelenting,  horribly! 

This  is  not  pain — it  is  the  beating  woe 

Of  many  million  spirits,  blent,  transfused — 

The  aching  spirit  of  the  universe ! 

Caught  in  the  subtle  net  of  circumstance 
We  struggle  vainly.     Yet,  O  mighty  God, 
Let  us  look  up  between  the  cloaking  mesh 
And  gather  thy  white  stars  into  our  souls ! 

Yon  blinking  window  fascinates  me!    I 

Would  see  what  lieth  outside!     O,  I  yearn 

To  feel  the  rush  of  dear  humanity; 

The  struggling  force  of  life,  the  strength  of  souls 

Eager  against  each  other — once  more  know 

The  interchange  of  little  gentle  ways, 

The  warm  hand-clasp — the  happiness,  the  hope. 

And  all  the  clanging  din  of  war! 

I  lie 

In  this  small  room  companioned  by  my  pain, 
Seeing  the  long  procession  of  my  dreams 
[128] 


SICK    FANCIES 

That  files  so  ghostly  thro'  my  spirit  ways ! 
These  dull  blank  walls — this  meagre  little  bed, 
The  pageantry  of  suffering  and  death! 

The  men  that  heal  us  lose  their  kindliness 

By  constant  contact  with  our  body's  ills. 

O  no,  I  do  not  blame  them — they  are  good. 

This  restiveness  seems  scarcely  manly!     Pain 

Of  body  is  so  infinitely  less 

Than  that  accursed  agony  of  soul 

That  lately  rent  my  passions! 

Lo,  one  stands 

White-capped  and  kindly,  summoning  me  there 
To  meet  alleviation  of  my  hurt. 
They  will  press  down  the  cone  and  shut  out  light, 
Leaving  me  a  great  agony  of  fire 
Poured  in  my  veins — no  air  to  breathe,  no  air, 
Only  the  hell-thick  ether — then,  long  sleep, 
The  skilful  stab  of  bright  consummate  steel, 
Directed  by  a  masterful,  strong  hand — 
Relief,  no  pain — no  pain! 

So,  I  will  go! 

But  if  I  never  wake?    This  body  can 
Not  chain  that  wonderful  and  tender  thing, 
The  flame-quick  mounting  soul  that  lives  in  me! 
[129] 


THE    HEALER 

0  Heart  of  all  the  World,  I  hold  Thee  here 
Between  my  fingers,  pulsing  terribly! 

1  look  into  the  blazing  eyes  of  joy, 

I  catch  the  human  rapture  of  release 

From  old,  long  haggard  pain — and  then,  behold, 

I  see  the  quiet  calm  of  Motherhood, 

I  hear  the  little  whimpering  shrill  cry 

Of  new-born  agony  and  fear  and  hope. 

I  see  the  coward  shiver  icily 

Before  the  scintillant  and  bitter  steel; 

I  see  the  brave  man  going  to  great  pain 

Like  a  young  lover  to  a  bridal  tryst! 

I  heal — I  give  release.    I  know  all  life, 
Alike  at  the  momentous  entrance,  when 
Reluctantly  the  soul  breathes  into  flesh, 
Impelled  and  most  unwilling — at  the  last 
When  Death  sits  at  the  pillow,  hand  on  wrist, 
Gaunt  fingers  at  the  ashy  lips.     Behold, 
O  Heart  of  all  the  World,  I  hold  Thee  here, 
Between  my  fingers,  pulsing  terribly! 


130] 


THE    LOVER 

God  gives  me  love !     He  opens  my  young  eyes 
To  the  white  glory  of  true  woman-guise. 
The  steadfast  gaze — the  pallid  hand  that  lies 
So  light,  so  tender — like  the  summer  skies 
Just  where  they  touch  the  waiting  earth  1    Sunrise, 
Moon-birth — the  silver  stars  with  age-wise  eyes, 
The  life-blood  flush  of  sunset  where  day  dies, 
What  are  they  all?    /  hail  love-nse, 
Love-birth!    Now  praised  be  God,  I  love! 

God  gives  me  love — the  heart  wrench  of  fierce 

pain, 

The  dull  half-brutish  longing  for  great  days 
Of  life  now  dead  that  must  not  rise  again, 
The  very  hell  of  love — Yet,  murkish  haze 
Of  sorrow,  parts — love-birth,  love-rise — 
I  love — still,  God  be  praised.     I  love ! 


THE    SUNSET 

The  hot,  gold  color  beats  along  the  west 
And  quietly  aspire  the  slender  trees 
To  incommunicable  far-off  heights. 
Above,  the  wide  blue  greatness  of  the  sky 
Arches  in  infinite  and  tender  calm 
And  all  around  us  peace  of  evening  lies, 
As  if  the  world  were  waiting  vision-filled! 

The  great  warm  glory  of  your  woman's  love; 
The  thoughts  that  reach  up  heav'nward  from  your 

mind 

As  those  far-off  immaculate  young  trees; 
The  arching  wonder  of  your  sky-wide  Soul ; 
And  my  heart  waiting  peaceful,  vision-filled ! 


[132] 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


DEC  2   1949 


Form  L9-2m-6,'49(B4568)444 


PS 

3So3 
3359A17 

1910 


A    000918109    o 


